Choices
by ebmordecai
Summary: The choice between love and duty, the heart and the head. It is just a choice, yet there is no such thing as an easy choice, for some choices are a matter of life and death. Same story under Game of Thrones category called The Choice.
1. Prologue

**Helllllooooo! It has been a while, but I am back with a new story. For the ones of you who have read my other story, Not Today, welcome back! I have brought you all a new story, one that is an AU. It will not follow the book or the show. This one is completely and totally my own besides the Characters that you recognize. Those belong to GRR Martin and not me of course. Anyway, the characters are the same, but everything else is different. This story is actually an original story that I wrote. I am just adding the GOT characters in it. I hope you all enjoy this new adventure! **

**Arya Stark ran as fast as her legs would take her down the empty hallway. The sound of her shoes crashed upon her ears like a mighty wave. The horrors of what were about to happen caused her to be unable to breathe. She had no time to think, no time to plan. Gendry was in danger and it was all her fault. He needed her now, more than he had ever needed her before, but was she too late? Would she be too late to stop what was about to happen? A sound of desperation left her lips, drowning out the sound of her feet running. How had it come to this? How had it turned so violent? So ugly? **

**As she rounded the corner, heading towards the courtyard, her mind drifted to the events of the past month. She thought of how her life felt as though it were ending, only to be saved by the most unlikeliest of persons. Now, that person was in danger, and she was the only one who could save him. But was it even possible to save him at this point? Her father would have to listen to her, have to listen to reason. She had not gotten the chance to give her side of things. Her father would have no choice but to listen now, for she would lay her head on the block if that is what it took. **

**The cries from the crowd began to grow, and Arya knew she was almost there. Some were screaming for blood, while others were screaming for mercy. The sun cast its bright rays down upon her when she broke through the darkness of the castle. The crowd stood in her way, blocking her view of the only face she wanted to see. It could only mean one thing and that one thing had her gasping for air. **

**Without thought, she pushed her way through the body of people. Some yelled at her as she bore through them, while others recognized her instantly and stepped from her path. Arya gave them no thought, continuing to make her way through the sea of people. Above her head, she saw her father sitting their, his hard face looking down upon a scene she could not see. Beside him sat a monster, a man that caused her skin to crawl. In that moment, she felt as though she could send a dagger straight through his heartless chest. **

**Suddenly, the crowd parted and Arya was finally able to see before her. What she saw stilled her movements, her breath. The crowd became deathly quiet. As her father noticed her there, rising to his feet and calling out to her, Arya met those deep blue eyes. She saw such love, such devotion within them even as the horrors unfolded around them. The only thing that could break their stare was the sword slowly raising in the air. As if time itself stood still, Arya watched it inch further into the air, until finally it stopped. She had only a second to think, only a second to react and react she did. **

"**NOOOOO!" she screamed, running towards Gendry. As she ran, the sword began to fall.**


	2. Not Her Choice

A girl, the age of six and ten, stared out the window of her spacious, quiet room. The moon hung high above her head as all the inhabitants of the kingdom began to emerge upon the palace. Something close to dread began to take hold within her. A whisper inside her head screamed for her to run, run and never return to the life she knew, but that was childish thoughts and a child she was not anymore. It was her name day, and the age of six and ten was an age where a girl became a woman. In Arya Stark's mind that was scary. It meant that her father would expect her to take her place amongst the other Starks and fulfill her duties as princess of Winterfell

One of those duties meant that she would marry someone of her father's choosing. Arya cringed, her chest tightening to the point of not being able to breathe. She had never really been smitten with boys, only thinking of the opposite sex when challenging them to some sort of competition. She left the boy chasing to her sister. Sansa usually never had to chase them. They fell at her feet willingly. It was not that Arya didn't find the boys of Winterfell interesting or attractive, but none of them felt right, felt her equal.

The thought of the opposite sex caused Arya to cringe again. She knew what was about to happen. She could feel it as plainly as the wind blowing through her window. A feast was about to start in her honor. Princess Arya turning the age of six and ten was something to celebrate for Winterfell. Even now, the seamstress was putting the finishing touching on the beautiful dress she was to wear. One that would stand out amongst the sea of people gathering for the feast. Arya would be made the center of attention, and at the right moment her father would announce her fate, sealing her and his kingdom to someone she had never met, some distant kingdom she had never been to.

Arya began to pace the room, her hands sliding into her hair and tugging just a little. Her future was a blur, as if she were trying to look upon it through a sea of smoke. Her carefree days of following her brother Jon around like a little puppy would come to an end. She would be shipped off to some stranger she knew nothing about, some man she would be forced to give her loyalty to without knowing the first thing about him. Would he be good to her? Would he be kind and gentle? Or was he thinking the same things she was, perhaps on this very night? Did he feel like his life was ending as well?

Arya walked swiftly towards the window, breathing in the light breeze floating through the night. It swept her hair back from her shoulders, cooling the tiny sweat bubbles underneath her nose. Her eyes were slammed shut, her breath coming out in small puffs. Any moment she knew she would faint from all of the whispers and images in her mind of what kind of life she would have from now on. She knew the rules, knew what was expected of her as a princess, knew her duties to her country and kingdom, but still she could not help the resentment creeping in. She could not help the resentment creeping in for her parents. There was even resentment for the people of her kingdom.

"Perhaps I am mistaken," she whispered to herself.

Her father had not given any indication that he was to wed her off to a stranger. He had told Sansa of her upcoming nuptials with the son of King Robert Baratheon of King's Landing well in advance of her name day a year ago. Though the marriage had not taken place, for whatever reason, Sansa still had known she would wed Joffrey. Was there still hope that Arya would not have to wed? Her father knew she was a free spirit, knew she was not made from the same mold as Sansa. To make her walk down the same path as her sister was like sentencing her soul to death. Would it make any difference if she wed? Winterfell was one of the strongest and safest kingdoms in Westeros, only standing in the shadows of the mighty King's Landing. But a marriage deal was done between those two kingdoms. They would be joined for all the ages, only increasing their strength.

"Winterfell is safe. It should not matter if I marry or not," Arya said, answering her mind's questions.

Sighing, she turned from the window and walked to her bed. Though she felt completely exhausted, she could not sleep, for any minute her mother would appear. A single tear slipped from her weak eyes, followed by another and then another. "I will not do it! I will not marry! It isn't fair!" she whispered to the darkened ceiling. _'Since when is life fair,' _the voice in her head whispered back. Arya closed her eyes, knowing she had never heard anything so true as that one statement.

The next few moments swirled around Arya like a dream. She heard every noise, every cheerful laughter floating from outside her window, yet she detached herself from the warm feelings. She could hear the footsteps walking towards her room, knew what those footsteps meant. The feast was about to begin, and her mother and servants were coming to get her ready.

Slowly, Arya sat up, wiping the last remnants of her tears from her flushed cheeks. No sooner had she wiped the last tear away, the door to her room opened. Catelyn Stark walked inside her daughter's room, a beautiful dress already fitting perfectly upon her ageless body. Arya turned to her mother, seeing the beautiful smile upon the woman's face. She tried to return the smile, but her muscles would not cooperate. Instead, she frowned at her mother. The smile fell a few notches from Catelyn's face, her eyes showing understanding. Her mother knew what Arya was thinking, knew the dread within her as only a mother could know.

"It is time, my daughter," Catelyn said softly.

Arya turned away, looking back towards the open window. There was no escape, no getting away from whatever fate awaited her. Closing her eyes, taking one more deep breath, Arya stood from the bed and turned back to her mother. Catelyn commanded the servants to began a bath. They did so without a word. Arya watched them moving about the room, doing as they were told without question. She could not help but think herself in their position, having to do what they were told without their consent. For the first time in her life, she felt ashamed for not giving her two servants, two girls around her age, a second thought.

She stayed in the warm water until it turned cold. Even then, she was forced to get out by her mother. If it meant not having to hear the dreaded news she knew was coming, Arya would have stayed in that water the rest of the night. Instead, she was standing before a large mirror staring at a girl she did not recognize. The dress the seamstress had made for the feast was something of wonder. It was made of green silk, as green as the trees of the Godswood. The swirling patterns, running from the bodice to the very tips of the train, were made of gold thread. It lay off her shoulders a bit, showing more skin than she had ever shown before. The dress flowed down to the floor. With every move she made, it billowed out as light as a feather. The train behind her was just the right length, not too long as to where she would be tripped up. The dress accented her small, firm waist perfectly. They had placed her long hair atop her head, allowing small ringlets to form around her face. This was no child standing before her in the mirror, but a grown woman that was strange and foreign to her.

"Arya, love, it is time to go," her mother said softly.

She turned away from the mirror, meeting her mother's stare. Again, she saw sadness, understanding, shining in Catelyn's eyes. It took every ounce of strength to keep the tears at bay, for that one look told Arya all she needed to know. There was on doubt now that her father had done the unthinkable. Her father had used her as a pawn in the endless game of thrones. Another marriage to connect one kingdom to the other in hopes of continuous prosperity and strength. She felt like nothing more than a piece in a chess game and it was her father's turn to make his move. No matter how hard she tried, the anger began to boil within her.

The walk down to the Great Hall was the longest Arya had ever experienced. Music floated towards her, causing her heart to drop even further. Her steps faltered for a moment as she felt a light breeze touch her face. Turning slightly to her left, she saw darkness, a way out. _'Run,' _the voice in her head pleaded. Before she realized it, she had come to a complete stop, not concerned with the fact that she was not alone. Catelyn had left her moments ago, leaving her with just the two servants. If she chose to run, they would not be able to stop her. She would be faster than them, and she knew the palace grounds better than anyone. Her heart began to pound loudly in her chest, her breath hitching. All she had to do was take a step towards the open air and she would be free. No marriage, no responsibilities. It was the only way, the only choice.

No sooner did Arya take a step towards the only escape she had, than suddenly that opening was taken away from her. It took her a few moments to realize that someone had stood in her path, stood in front of the open door to her freedom. Her eyes traveled up a strong body covered in the garbs of the royal army of Winterfell. The Stark crest stared back at her from the man's chest. She looked upon the proud direwolf as if she had never seen it before. Arya continued to move her eyes up until she found herself staring into the deepest blues she had ever seen. Besides the blue of his eyes, she was aware of the jet black hair that fell around his face. It was as black as the night behind him.

"Milady," he greeted with a bow.

His voice was deep, yet soft. It brought her out of her reverie in an instant. As soon as she was brought back to reality, to the cold, hard fact of what she was doing here, Arya became angry. Her one way out, her only hope, was taken from her by this man standing in her way. Her eyes grew dark as she continued to stare at him, at her blocked way out. The man seemed startled for a moment, no doubt confused by Arya's sudden turn of emotion.

"A-are you alright, Milady?" he asked in that same deep voice.

Without a word, Arya turned from the knight and walked away. The man would never know what he just took from her, never know that he had just taken her freedom away, for Arya knew she would not have another chance of escape. The moment her father uttered those words of doom, she would be held accountable. This man, this knight, just sealed her fate.

She left him behind her in shadow as she walked into the Great Hall. Instantly, she was overcome with laughter and music. The feast was well underway, but at the sight of their princess, the whole kingdom came to a stop. Every pair of eyes were upon her, some looking stunned at the woman standing before them. As one, the people of Winterfell began to bow to their princess. Arya had no choice but to force a smile upon her face. Her eyes darted towards the front of the Great Hall, seeing her entire family watching her closely. Her father, King Eddard Stark, raised his hand and motioned for her to come forward.

Without a sound, the people moved from her path. She walked passed their bowed heads, trying to force the smothered feeling away. Her eyes stayed on her father, a man she desperately loved with all of her heart. She did not want to think he would make her do something she had no desire to do, but as the seconds passed, she knew more and more of what was to come. Her beautiful mother stood beside her father, the look of sadness and understanding still in her eyes. Beside her, stood her brothers, Robb, Jon, Bran and Rickon. Beside them, stood Sansa looking as beautiful as ever. As soon as she was close enough, her father wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Arya," he whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the tears again. "Dance with me."

With a nod, he lead her towards the dance floor. The music began immediately. The tune was soft and melancholy, fitting her mood perfectly. Arya held her father tightly, sending silent pleas towards him as if he could hear her. After a moment, the dance floor began to fill with other dancers, yet Arya ignored them all. She was trapped in her own mind, in her own inaudible pleas. They danced together through three songs. No words were spoken between them. Perhaps her father was struggling with his decision to marry her off as well.

It wasn't until after supper was served and the many presents given that the horrible announcement was made. King Eddard had risen from his seat, looking upon Arya with feign happiness. Arya dug her fingernails into her chair, waiting to hear the news. As soon as the people saw their king standing, a hush went out through the room. He had their attention.

"Tonight, upon my daughter's name day, it is my honor to announce the joining of Winterfell with the kingdom of the Twins. King Walder Frey and I have negotiated a pact with our kingdoms. We will have free roam of the Riverlands, to come and go without payment. My daughter, Arya, is to marry his son, Elmar Frey, a month from today."

His voice was soft as he spoke, yet to Arya it was as if he were right at her ear, screaming in anger. She felt her world shift, felt the solid ground beneath her chair give way. Arya knew what was happening, knew it was the feeling of fainting and she forced her way through it. She would not give in to weakness, not in front of so many people. She grabbed onto her anger, onto her pain. The Freys? That is who her father had chosen for her? Walder Frey's son? How could her father do this to her? How could he have reached so low? She had heard stories of the Freys, of the Twins. It was not a nice place, though it was rich in land and money. Walder Frey was a hard ruler, and his son could not have fallen far from the tree. It was worse than a nightmare. It was a prison surrounded by water.

The people began to cheer the news, shouting their happiness and good wishes. Arya refused to look at them, looking past them at the door leading to the darkened night. The knight from earlier was standing at attention, staring directly at her. Her anger rose a notch as she thought about how he had stood in her path of escape. She stared daggers at him, wanting him to see the damage he had caused. If he noticed her angered eyes upon him, he gave no indication.

"Princess Arya will leave in two days on a journey to the Twins to meet her new husband-to-be and subjects."

Arya jerked her head towards her father, her eyes growing wide. He was not looking at her, and she could tell that it was on purpose. What had he just said? What had she heard? She would have to travel to the Twins to meet this stranger? It was as if her father had added salt to the wounds.

"May the old gods and the new protect our princess!" someone yelled from the crowd. Everyone began to cheer again, raising their glasses above their heads. Arya's family joined in, everyone but Arya herself. Her eyes were still glued to her father, screaming in her head for him to look at her. He never did. After what seemed like ages, she turned her eyes away, back towards the only exit in the room. The knight was gone, giving her vision full reign of the darkness outside. Her nightmare had just begun.

"May I be excused, father? I am quite tired and must get my sleep for the journey ahead," Arya asked sometime later.

Her father's hand came down softly on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. Arya felt him breathe deeply, the air fanning her cheeks. "Arya…I know what you are thinking, my child. It is for the good of the kingdom, you must understand that. We are born into a position where our duties must come first for the safety of the people we are given charge of. This will secure us for years to come, in a way that no other kingdom has ever known. I-I know this is not what you want, but I swear it is a good match."

"Goodnight, father," Arya replied, her voice dead.

She turned from her father, from her family, and proceeded to walk from the Great Hall. As she passed her subjects, they bowed to her again. She wanted to scream at them to rise to their feet. The moment she was out of sight, she ran. Where she was headed, Arya did not know, but the darkness of the night called to her. Grabbing the bottom of her beautiful dress, she ran as fast as she could. Her way was blinded by the tears stinging her eyes, yet she knew the land better than anyone. She would not stop, would not breath, until she was well away from the palace. Until she was well away from the duties that awaited her in two days, she would not stop to even think.

Through the Godswood, past the huge tree her father found solace under, she continued to run. Her legs became tired. Her dress and hair became tangled in tree limbs and roots, yet she continued to run. By the time she came to the large spring she could not venture over, she was bleeding from cuts to her face and panting loudly. Her tears mixed with the blood, running down her dirty cheeks. It was then that she allowed her self to fully scream. Anger and rage poured out of her mouth as the realization that her future was gone. Her life was not her own anymore, her dreams dead and gone. She was property to another, belonging to someone she did not know. Arya fell to her knees, feeling the weight of what that meant hitting her squarely in the face.

"Milady, are you alright?" said a concerned voice from earlier.

At once, Arya was on her feet again, turning to the man abruptly. She needed an outlet for her anger, her pain, and this man was the answer. Though she would regret it tomorrow, tonight she could not find it in her to care. After all, he was partly to blame for standing in her way earlier. He was to blame, for it was his safety and life that sealed her fate. He was her subject, which meant she would have to give up her happiness for his wellbeing.

"It isn't any of your concern!" she ground out. "Do me a favor and leave me be!"

"With all due respect, Milady, it is my concern and I cannot leave you be out here by yourself. I must ask you to allow me to accompany you back to the palace where you will be safe. There are beasts and evil things in the forest," he answered back quickly.

She scoffed at him, rolling her eyes at his chivalry when all she wanted to do was claw him. "I am no child and can take care of myself. I am not going back with you, sir! You will have to use force to get me to go back," she spat.

Even in the darkness, Arya saw his eyes darken. She could tell that he was not used to people disobeying him. As he took a step towards her, she took a step back. The concern was gone in his face, leaving what looked like anger.

"If I must use force I will, Milady. I do not exaggerate the dangers we are in being out here. I am sure after I explain what has happened to your father, he will pardon all wrongs I have done to get you safely back to the palace," the man whispered.

Arya felt a shiver run down her spine at the same time as her stomach did a few somersaults. When she tried to think of some smart retort, nothing would come to mind. That had never happened before. She had always been able to take care of herself with anyone, male or female, but this man standing before her had her at a lose for words. It was not so much as what he said but how he said it. There was an underlying danger in his voice, yet she could feel his protection as well. He meant what he said. If he had to, he would force her back to the palace. She would not allow herself to be humiliated in that way. At least that is what she told herself as she began walking back to the palace.

The walk in the dark seemed to last for forever. She could hear the man walking beside her, hear his head turning as he looked for danger in every direction. Arya kept her eyes forward, her chin slightly in the air to prove to this man he had not won the upper hand.

"I apologize for making you angry, Milady. I have walked these woods on patrol and have seen horrible things. I would not have spoken so bluntly if I was not concerned for your safety."

"You should have let the horrible things get me," she mumbled softly.

They were back under the safe shadow of the palace when the man stopped so abruptly that Arya could not help but follow. For a few moments, she did not dare look at his eyes, for she could feel them upon her. Though she was talking low and to herself, he had heard what she had said. Shame filled her, for she had showed weakness.

"Goodnight, sir. Thank you for your assistance," she said, turning and walking inside before he had a chance to respond.

Arya ran down the quiet hallway towards her room. As soon as she was inside, she leaned against her door, slamming her eyes shut. Outside her still open window, she could hear the music and laughter continue. Her mind kept going back to the man. She had never really gotten a good look at him, only his blue eyes and jet black hair. Sliding to the floor, the only thought she could think was how glad she was that she would not have to face him again, not after what he heard her say. In a month, he would just be a distant memory along with everything else.

**I know the story just started but reviews are welcomed. Just like Not Today, this will be a whirlwind of emotions, but the ride is going to be fun! I will get chapter two out as soon as I can! **


	3. Old Memories and New Journies

**You all know I own nothing in this story that looks familiar. GRR Martin is the man and he owns it all cause I really don't want to get my ass sued! Thank you so much for the reviews and added favorites and followers! Keep them coming cause they are appreciated.**

The next morning at breakfast, Arya sat silently in her chair, moving the food around on her plate. She was nowhere close to being hungry. Her stomach turned with every second that past, every moment that crawled closer towards her trip to the Twins. Even now, the servants were packing her things. The moment she saw what they were doing, she had run from the room as fast as her legs would take her.

"Arya, are you feeling well?"

She was caught off guard as her mother's soft voice floated towards her. Looking up from her plate, she nodded her head. Catelyn stared at her daughter for what seemed like an eternity, as if she were looking deep within her. Arya tried not to wiggle underneath the intense stare of her mother, but those knowing eyes got the better of her and she looked away.

"I'm fine, mother," she answered softly.

Nothing more was said for a while as each of the Stark siblings finished their breakfast. Each rose, one at a time, and went about their daily business. Arya was left alone with her mother and father. She could feel them both staring at her, but she refused to lift her face. Suddenly, the eggs seemed much more interesting.

"Arya, will you join us for a while? I think it is time we talk this through," her father said, ending his sentence with a soft sigh.

They left the dining area and headed towards King Eddard's study. A fire, casting many shadows upon the round walls, lighted the spacious room. This was where most of the decisions for the good of Winterfell and its people took place. Eddard and Catelyn sat upon their thrones, looking down upon Arya, who chose to remain standing. It was the easiest way to run if she felt the need to.

"I know how upset you are right now, Arya. Do not think it doesn't pain me to see the sadness in your eyes. It will be a good match with Elmar Frey. He is a gentle boy it is said, and will be good and true to you. With this marriage, Winterfell will grow stronger."

Arya could not help but to feel anger at hearing this. For a brief moment, a moment she could not help, she could care less about Winterfell. It was a thought that shamed her, yet she could not deny that the resentment was growing.

"And what of me? What about what is best for me?" she said without thinking.

"This is best for you, my love. It secures your safety and future as well," Catelyn added softly.

Arya turned her angered eyes towards her mother. "My safety and future? What about my choice? Do I not have a say so in who I choose to spend the rest of my life with? Do I not get to decide for myself? I do not want this, not for the whole of the world!"

Her father sighed again, running his hand down his face, as if he had been up all night with worry. Arya looked from her mother to her father, back and forth, trying to make them understand her side of this. The room fell silent for what seemed like the longest. Against her better judgment, Arya allowed herself to hope for just a moment that they would change their minds. She hoped against hope that she would be free from this burden put upon her.

"It is done, Arya, and it cannot be undone. The consequences of such an action would be horrific. Walder Frey does not take such grievances lightly."

"And yet you have no problems selling your daughter to him," Arya whispered, her teeth grinding.

Both Catelyn and Eddard flinched at her words. Arya was too angry to feel any shame. She continued to stare at them with eyes full of hot daggers. She wanted them to understand what this would do to her. She wanted them to understand that she would never go quietly, never be okay with this decision. Strong willed, she was.

"When you are in my shoes, Arya, you will understand better. When the fate of many is in your hands, you will understand that some sacrifices must be made," Eddard responded. Arya could see her father reigning in his anger. She was being defiant, something that King Eddard Stark was not used to.

"I will never have to be in your shoes, father. Winterfell is one of the safest and strongest kingdoms in all of Westeros. With the marriage between Sansa and Prince Joffrey, we will be untouchable," she pleaded.

"Arya, please," her mother said softly.

"No! This makes no sense," Arya cried, interrupting her mother's pleas. "You do not have to marry me off, father. You have King's Landing. You have King Robert! Or, if you will not listen to reason from me why do you not ask your dear friend, King Robert, of the consequences of an arranged marriage."

"Arya!" her mother said louder, her eyes growing wide.

She knew she had made a mistake the moment the words were out of her mouth, yet she was past the point of being able to stop. She was angry with her father, angry at what he had done, and she knew there was one thing that would send invisible daggers towards him. A part of her, somewhere deep within her, felt ashamed, yet she refused to look away from her father's angered eyes. She refused to back down, for she was desperate at this point.

"You will not ever mention King Robert or that incident again, Arya. Do you understand me?" he said low, his voice dangerous. She had never heard that voice aimed towards her, only the lowest of lows in the kingdom. Arya swallowed hard, knowing she would not stop.

"That incident had a name, father, or have you forgotten your own sister's name? Lyanna was forced to marry King Robert and look how that turned out."

"ENOUGH!" her father roared, jumping up from his chair.

Arya flinched, taking a step backwards. Her father had never so much as raised his hand towards her, yet he looked upon her now as if she threatened his entire kingdom. His eyes were blazing with fury, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. This was a side of her father that Arya had rarely seen, but she had chosen to bring up a memory that was forced to be buried years before her birth. No one, not even her mother, was allowed to mention Lyanna's name, and yet she had defied her father and said her name anyway.

Lyanna had been betrothed to King Robert many years back. It was a marriage that most of Westeros celebrated. Two powerful kingdoms, two powerful families, joining together. It should have been the perfect scenario. But something happened that no one saw coming. Lyanna fell in love with a man named Rhaegar Targaryen. In the dead of night, they escaped King's Landing escaping the marriage arrangement brought down upon her without her consent. She had rebelled and won, but only for a little while. King Robert was so eat of with hate and vengeance that he launched a rebellion of his own, a war that would go down in history as one of the bloodiest. In the end, both Lyanna and Rhaegar lost their lives, along with Arya's uncle and grandfather. From that moment on, Lyanna's name was banned from everyone's lips in Winterfell. Until now.

"If you had been any other person, I would have had you removed from my sight and sent to the dungeons!" her father whispered.

Arya swallowed, taking and deep breath to reign in some of her anger. She was on dangerous ground and had to tread slowly. If she were to get through to her parents, she could not anger them, although her father was past anger at this point.

"Father, all that I am saying…" she began, but he interrupted her. "You have said all that you need to. You will leave in the morning on your journey to the Twins to meet your husband-to-be and I will hear no more of what you have to say!"

His words caused tears to prick the corners of her eyes. Never in her years could she remember him speaking to her as he had just done. Never could she remember seeing the anger in his eyes directed towards her. Catelyn stood from her chair and touched her husband's arm gently. This action seemed to relieve the anger some. Eddard closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. He stood there before Arya with his eyes shut tight. She dared not say a word. The battle was lost, she knew. There was no way of talking them out of this decision, no way of changing their minds. When Arya understood that, she felt her soul deflate.

"Your Majesty. The two men you asked for are here to see you," said someone behind Arya. Eddard took a few more breaths before his eyes came open. He looked past Arya, as if she was not standing there. "Send them in," he said, his voice shaky.

Hard footsteps invaded the quiet of the room. Whomever the men were that entered stopped directly behind Arya. She remained motionless, staring at her father. Still, he did not look her in the eyes, but at the men behind her. She heard them fall to one knee, bowing their heads before their king.

"Your Majesty," they both said at once. Two deep voices floated to Arya's ears. One of them sent shivers down her back, a feeling of familiarity falling down upon her.

Slowly, she turned to look at the men behind her. Their heads were bowed disguising their faces, but there was no denying the head for of thick, black hair. Was it some curse that made her continuously run into his path?

"You?" she whispered.

His head moved up slightly to where she could barely see his blue eyes, but it was enough to prove what she knew all along. It was the man from the night before. His eyes stayed on her briefly, before they fell back to the floor.

"Rise gentlemen. Thank you for coming on such sort notice. I realize you are very busy with planning the security of the upcoming journey, but I thought I would ask for a contingency plan. The journey will be dangerous, and I must be assured that my daughter will be safely brought to and from the Twins."

The men did as their king said and rose to their feet. Arya was finally able to get a good look at both men. Her eyes traveled to the biggest of the two. His hair was as black as the other's was but it was longer, falling to the man's shoulders. He had to be the biggest man she had ever laid eyes on. His face was set in a determined look, but that was not what caught Arya's attention. Running along the length of one side of his face was a burn mark. It made him look dangerous, angry. At once, she knew this man was not someone to take for granted. He was built to take on several men at once. His eyes looked at her for an instant and then traveled to his king.

Arya turned her attention to the man that she was somewhat familiar with already. It was the first time she was able to truly see him in the light. She had been right about his jet-black hair, right about the blue of his eyes, but what startled her most was how handsome he was. She had not expected that and it angered her that she thought of him like that. After all, it was his fault that she had not been able to escape twice the night before. Being reminded of that had her scowling at him. What made matters worse is that she could have sworn she saw a small smirk before his attention went towards King Eddard.

"We are ready to leave at first light, Your Majesty. We have enlisted the help of fifty soldiers for the journey. It should take us four days. Ser Gendry and myself will be at the head of command."

"Thank you Ser Clegane. That will make me feel more at ease with the road you will travel," Eddard said. He turned his attention to the other man. "Ser Gendry, you come to me highly favored by your superiors. Thank you for your assistance."

The man her father had called Ser Gendry bowed again, receiving his king's kind words humbly. When his head rose, he shot Arya another quick glance. Her stomach did the same odd flip that it had done the night before. Perhaps she had eaten something that was not settling well with her, but then she remembered she had not touched her breakfast. What was causing such an odd feeling. Arya shook it off, holding on to her anger, for she hated feeling feelings foreign to her. It made her head hurt.

"Catelyn, will you take Arya to her room to rest for the trip," Eddard commanded, some of the anger from earlier coming back in his voice. Arya had no choice but to walk away from the man before her when she felt her mother's light touch upon her shoulder. As they past the men, both bowed and mumbled their respects. She found herself silently wanting the man to look up at her again, but this time he kept his face to the floor until they past by. Again, not for the first time today, she was disappointed in the end result.

When her mother tried to speak to her, Arya batted her away. She could always get away with more with her mother than her father. The last thing she wanted to hear was how wrong she was for mentioning Lyanna. When a person is desperate, they will try anything.

Her mother left her in her room watching the servants continue to pack her things. The anger was fading away, leaving her tired and depressed. There was no changing it now, that she was finally understanding. She would actually have to go along with this, actually have to marry that Frey boy.

"Milady, would you like me to run you a bath?"

Arya raised her tired head up to see a girl close to her own age staring back at her. Her face was kind, her eyes even kinder. She was a small girl, no more than five feet tall with long brownish-blond hair. Why had she never given her servants a second glance? Had she been so wrapped up in her world not to notice others?

"Only if the bath will take me far from this place," Arya heard herself say. She had not really meant to say it out loud. It just slipped out on its own. The servant girl stood frozen, a look of confusion etched in her eyebrows. Arya sighed, giving the girl a small smile. "Forget I said that," Arya whispered.

The servant girl bowed, going about the room and packing. Arya watched her, feeling the need to talk to her again. Just what she would say she wasn't sure, but she felt the need to just talk.

"What is your name?" she asked the girl.

The servant stopped, turning slowing to look at Arya with her arms full of clothing. "Beth, but my friends call me Weasel," the girl answered, her voice as soft as her face.

"Weasel? Really?" Arya said, chuckling.

The girl smiled a small smile, yet it was warm and inviting. "Yes, Milady. When I was younger, my mother said I would get away from her all the time. I was always running from her or hiding like a weasel. Ever since then, the name has stuck, although the older I get, the more I cringe at it."

Arya nodded her head, understanding what the girl was saying perfectly. "Well then, I shall call you Beth." The girl looked relieved, as if she had not heard the name Beth in quite some time.

For a little while later, Arya and Beth chatted. It felt nice for a change to have someone just to talk to. Sansa was the only girl Arya had ever really talked with, and usually the conversation revolved around Sansa or. God forbid, Joffery. It felt nice to talk about nothing in particular, yet feel like someone is listening to you. Arya did not realize the late hour, until Beth began to close her window. She had spent all day in her room with the girl and had not even realized it. Beth walked towards the door, ready to leave for the night, but stopped. She stood with her back to Arya for what seemed like forever, until finally she turned slowly around.

"I know that I am out of line when I say this, but I feel you need to hear it. You do not deserve to have your freedom and happiness taken away just so we could have our freedom and happiness. It just does not seem fair," Beth whispered.

Arya was at a loss for words, never expecting to hear that come from the shy, sweet girl. "Thank you," Arya said, stunned. Beth had been the only one to truly understand what was being taken from Arya, or at least the only one that had the courage to say it aloud. Beth curtsied and walked out of the room leaving Arya to watch her go well after she was out of sight. For the second night in a row, sleep evaded her.

With the rising of the sun, the floating of its rays inside Arya's room, a feeling of thick dread crept into Arya's mind. Already, she could hear the men loading her belongings in the carriages. No sooner had she sat on the side of her bed, than there was a knock on the door. Her mother and Sansa entered, both smiling as if it was some glorious celebration they were attending. Sansa, in all her beauty, was dressed for the long ride ahead that day. It was another bombshell her parents landed upon her head. Sansa would be accompanying her on the journey to the Twins. As if, the trip could not get any worse.

"I will get your bath going. There is no time to waste. The soldiers are already ready to leave, but I have talked your father into giving you a few more minutes."

"Is he still mad?" Arya asked, quietly.

"Not as much. He loves you, Arya, but you should have never said what you did. You will never know the heartbreak your father feels for what happened to his sister. She was not the only one he lost in that horrible situation," Catelyn answered.

"I know, mother. I do not know what came over me."

Catelyn helped Arya out of bed, kissing her gently on the head. She spent longer than she should have in the water, for she still held out hope that her father would put an end to this. Even as she walked down the halls of the palace towards the waiting caravan, she still held out hope.

As she walked into the sunlight, the crowd that had gathered to send their princess off began to cheer. She waved at them politely, and proceeded to walk towards the waiting carriage. Before she could climb in, a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Arya turned, seeing her father standing before her. Without a word, she fell into his arms. He held her tightly to his chest, rubbing her head lightly.

"Stay safe, my love. Try to keep out of trouble…and one day find it in your heart to forgive me," he whispered.

Before she could respond, he let her go. Turning away, he walked away from her without another word. She watched him go, until she heard someone calling to her from behind. With tears in her eyes, she turned around to see Ser Gendry standing beside the door to the carriage. She was too tired to feel anger, too tired to feel anything. Instead, she walked towards the stairs to climb in. His hand was there before her. Arya stared down at it, seeing the groves and callous of a hard worker.

"Allow me to help you, Milady," he said softly.

She stared back at him, again at a loss as to why her stomach was feeling funny. Without thought, she slipped her hand into his waiting one. Though it looked calloused, it was soft to the touch and warm. She watched him the whole time, until she took her seat in the carriage. He bowed, his thick black hair falling in his face, and then he was gone. Arya leaned her head out the open window, watching him get atop his horse. Before he turned to lead the caravan, he looked back at her one more time. This time, there was no mistaking the smirk on his face. The somersaults in her stomach came to an abrupt stop, and she made sure that he saw the scowl upon her face this time. If he noticed, he gave no sign. Arya had not time to dwell upon it for she felt the carriage shift into motion. The journey to her new prison was beginning, and she could only imagine what the journey had in store for her.

**Gendry will now be joining us more for the rest of the story! He wants to come out and play, along with some of the others. Hmm, Arya and Gendry on the road with each other again. What could possibly go wrong? Muahahahahaha! Aww, and look, Sansa and Sandor, this should get interesting. And Weasel! Stay tuned people, we got a good ride ahead of us. Get those reviews coming.**


	4. The Journey Begins

**Hello again. Here is the next chapter. Thank you for all of the comments, favorites and likes. I love em! They give me the boost I need to write more. As you all know, GRR Martin owns them all and I own nothing. I am making no profit cause that would be wrong…lol! Enjoy…**

The hours flew by as the carriage jerked forward on the road to the Twins. The scene outside Arya's window changed from the luscious lands of Winterfell to the greens of the forest. The trees grew tall around them, covering most of the sun above their heads. Arya rested her head against the window, staring out at the moving landscape around her. Beside her, Sansa remained quiet. Not many words were spoken between the girls in the carriage. Across from Arya and Sansa sat Beth and another servant, a girl named Osha.

Arya saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her whole attention towards someone close to her window. Her stomach jumped immediately as she noticed who was riding along side her. At first, Gendry did not look at her, but rode along in silence. She wondered for a moment if he were not doing it on purpose, just to annoy her, but at last he spoke.

"I wanted to see how you and your companions were doing, Milady. The hours have turned long, and I know it can be an uncomfortable ride on such rough terrain. At any time you need us to stop, so that you can take a break, do not hesitate to let me know."

Those eyes turned towards her, waiting for a response. For a moment, her voice would not cooperate with her head. She knew the words to say, yet they would not come out. Instead, she stared at him like a deaf mute. Arya forced her eyes from the man, forcing them to look at his horse instead. That seemed to help as the words finally broke through.

"Thank you, Ser Gendry. I will leave it to your judgment on when it is best to stop," she answered.

Another look passed between them, this time lasting longer than the first. With the slightest bow of his head, he rode away from her window. Arya was left to watch his retreating back, wondering why he caused such strange feelings within her. He had done nothing but annoy her, yet the stomach flips did not feel as though it were due to negative feelings towards the man. She allowed a heavy sigh to escape her lips. Everything was so complicated.

"Oh, for the love of everything, dear sister, will you please just snap out of this horrible mood you are in! It is not befitting a princess and, frankly, I am becoming a little annoyed with your immature attitude."

Arya closed her eyes, hearing Sansa's words. This was the last thing she needed, to have a fight with her sister, but she and Sansa were like fire and ice. They were opposites in almost everything. Why her parents thought it was such a great idea for Sansa to join her on this trip was beyond comprehension.

"I will not apologize for my lack of excitement for my circumstance if that is what you are looking for. We can not all be as lucky as you, Sansa," Arya answered, her voice acid.

She turned towards her sister. Sansa had a slight smile upon her face, which irked Arya to no end. Yes, they were polar opposites. Sansa was born to be a princess, having no problems with her life being mapped out for her. She would marry her prince, living happily ever after without a second thought to what she really wanted. Sansa would do her duty with pride. Arya, on the other hand, was too strong-willed, too hardheaded. Sansa looked away first, as she always did, chuckling lightly to herself.

"Your circumstance? You are to marry a prince and one day be queen of the Twins. I do not understand why you find this so hard to accept. You will have a good life, Arya, and it is time for you to grow up. You have always acted like such a child, you know. I imagine if you had your way you would never marry, or perhaps you would choose the Baker's son or a blacksmith, not a prince to which you are obligated to marry."

"At least it would be my choice," Arya whispered.

Sansa turned back to her; the smile upon her lips fell a fraction of an inch. "We do not have such luxuries, sister. To choose someone not of noble birth is to choose that person's death for them. You know the law," Sansa answered softly.

It was known that a marriage law had been written hundreds of years ago, which made it impossible for anyone of noble blood to marry outside of their nobility. It was felt by the kings and queens of old that to marry a person of lower birth was tainting the noble blood. The law had passed the test of time, and was still regarded as one of the more sacred laws. No, Arya could no more marry a Baker's son or a blacksmith than she could fly to the heavens. There have been few kings and queens that have defied the law but every time it had resulted in the death of the person he or she fell in love with.

"It is best that you just accept what is to be, Arya."

"Is that why you are here?" Arya lashed out, not able to stop herself. "Is that why mother and father sent you on this trip with me? Have you become the voice of reason for me to listen to? Save your breath, Sansa, for I do not want to hear anymore!"

With every word, her voice rose in volume. Her anger began to boil over. She should have known, should have known her father and mother would do something such as this. She had wondered why Sansa would want to come on such a long and treacherous journey, and Arya realized she had just realized the truth. Sansa was here to change her view on the marriage to Elmar. She was not sent as a companion, but someone who would plant seeds in Arya's mind that this marriage was a good thing. For some reason, it angered her.

Suddenly, the carriage felt too small. Arya felt smothered, felt trapped like a poor animal in a cage. She turned away from her sister towards the window; desperate to breathe in the clear air to calm her rage, yet it was not helping. Her parents should have known that Sansa was not the best choice for such a challenge as to talk Arya down from her depression of the situation. They would have had better luck sending Jon to do their bidding more than Sansa.

"Stop," Arya whispered. She felt as though she could not breathe, the rage choking her. None of the men around her seemed to hear her. "Stop!" she said a little louder. Still, none of them seemed to hear due to the sound of the carriage and the many horses.

"Arya, calm down, please," Sansa said, sighing heavily.

"STOP!" Arya screamed this time.

At once, the men turned towards her and the carriage came to an abrupt halt, almost sending the women from their seats. Arya jerked the door open, leaving behind the protests of her sister. Right now, she needed to be anywhere Sansa was not. If there was one person in the entire world that could get underneath her skin it was her sister. She hurried past the soldiers, all of them bowing to her, which made her angrier. Just once, she wanted to feel normal, wanted to not be bowed down to. For once, she wanted to hear someone say her name and not her title. She wanted freedom, wanted to feel free from the burdens of her birthright.

Behind her, she could hear footsteps, but she did not stop. Through the thick brush she went, looking around for a path to take. The trees were thick in the area, and the further she went into the woods, the darker it grew. It seemed the sun was not allowed this deep in the woods. She did not see a large root sticking out of the ground and her foot caught it dead on. Arya hit the ground, knocking the breath from her. Whoever had followed her rushed towards her, calling to her softly.

Arya felt strong hands reach for her arms to help her up. On instinct, she pushed them away, feeling her face grow red with embarrassment. They let her go, allowing her to sit up on her own. She remained on her knees, looking down at her dirty hands. Behind her, someone sat down without a word. She was not ready to look at them, not ready to return back to the carriage. Her anger was as palpable as her heartbeat, her sorrow just as strong. Sansa was always good at making her feel this way. Though she loved her sister, their relationship was not the best. It angered her that she did not care to see Arya's feelings. She refused to see how this made her miserable. Everyone refused to see how miserable she was.

It took several minutes to calm down, but Arya finally felt as though she could breathe easier. Slowly, her head rose and looked behind her. What she saw had her groaning within. Gendry was behind her, staring at her with his intense blue eyes. She could have handled it being anyone, possibly even Sansa, but not that man. Not having the strength to look at him anymore, she turned back to her dirty hands. Around them, above their heads, the sound of birds chirping filled the silence.

"Ser Gendry," she said in a low voice. Where she found the strength to speak, Arya was not sure. "If I asked you to let me run, would you? If I asked you to let me just disappear into these woods, would you allow me to?"

Arya forced herself to turn and meet his stare again. He looked caught off guard, not expecting her to ask such a question. What was he thinking at this moment? Was he wondering why she was so melancholy? She watched him sigh, looking away from her at the woods around them. For a moment, just the briefest of moments, he looked as though he were contemplating her question. With the slight shake of his head, she knew his answer.

"Never mind," she whispered. "Forget that I ever asked such a stupid question."

"Milady," he began, but she held her hand up for him to stop. Whatever he was to say would only make her feel worse. She did not need his pity.

Arya got to her feet as Gendry followed. They stood in silence once more. She turned to him fully, watching him for just a moment. "I must ask that you keep this to yourself. It is embarrassing enough that you had to experience my weakness. I do not want the other men talking of this," she commanded, her voice a little stronger. He bowed slightly to her, "As Milady commands."

The sound of footsteps approached them. Ser Clegane came into view, looking from Arya to Gendry. He bowed to her, causing Arya to clench her teeth. She was tired of the bows, tired of the 'Milady's'.

"The men were wondering if we were stopping for the day."

His question was directed at Gendry. For a moment, he thought about the man's question before answering. It was as if he were calculating their miles to see if it would put them behind. "That will be fine, Sandor. Tell the men to set up camp for the night. I think we could all use a rest." With that, the man left them again.

"Milady, I must ask you to come back to the caravan with me. I must help my men with the task ahead, and I cannot leave you out here all alone," he said.

Without another word between them, Arya turned to walk back towards her sister and servants. When she tried to pass Gendry, he stepped in her path, causing her to come up short. She looked at him, a look of confusion on her face. He reached out, taking her hands in his. She felt a spark run the length of her spine, a feeling she had never felt. Her heart sped up. He reached inside the pocket of his pants and pulled out a white handkerchief. She watched, her breath held, as he began to clean the dirt from her hands. As softly as he could, he ran the handkerchief over her skin, leaving behind a clean surface. Arya slowly raised her eyes to his, surprised that he was not staring at his work but at her face.

All too soon, he let go of her hands, for his work was done. She looked down at her hands, seeing that the dirt was all gone. "Thank you," she said softly. He nodded his head in reply.

By the time she got back to her caravan, the tents were popping up in a clearing of the forest. She knew which tent was hers, for it was the largest of them all. It had to be large to accommodate her, Sansa and the servants. Gendry escorted her to the entrance and bowed to leave. She watched him go, until he disappeared behind another tent.

Entering the tent, she found Sansa already resting on a feather bed. Her sister raised her head meeting Arya's eyes. She could see that her sister was sorry for angering her, but she had never been good at admitting when she had done wrong against Arya. She knew she would not get an apology, so the look in her sister's eyes would have to do. She walked to her own feather bed, lying down and allowing herself to finally give in to her exhaustion.

When Arya awoke, the sun had completely disappeared, giving way to the moon and stars. As she exited the tent, she felt a slight breeze blowing between the trees. It brought with it the smell of food and flowers. A little ways ahead, she could see a large fire blazing. Above the large orange flames sat a large pot. She watched the steam rising from the pot and her stomach rumbled. She was famished. Arya could not remember the last time she ate. Her feet began to take her towards the heavenly aroma.

"Milady," the man said, bowing. One of the men, an older gentleman, grabbed a bowl and began pouring the contents of the pot into the bowl. Walking towards Arya, he reached out to give it to her, a smile upon his face. She took it gladly, thanking him softly. Looking down at the bowl, the smell of deer stew engulfed her senses, causing her eyes to close on their own. She truly was starving. By the time she took her seat around the fire, everyone began to gather. Over the fire, she saw Gendry and Ser Clegane making their way towards her and the others. Gendry nodded slightly to her and she gave him a nod back. Sansa took a seat beside Arya and the girls began to eat their dinner in silence. The feeling in the air was light, and Arya felt better after her nap.

Sansa and the two servants did not stay after they finished their dinner. Thanking the men for the stew, they retired for the night. Arya was not tired, so she stayed by the fire. As the night went on, it was becoming increasingly cold. She stared at the flames dancing amongst the wood for a while, not aware that the men were leaving to start their watch or go to bed.. When she finally looked up, she noticed just a few men remained. One of them was Gendry. He sat across from her talking to someone. It was a boy around her age. Something was said between them, causing both to laugh aloud. Arya found she liked the sound of Gendry's laugh. It was the first time she actually saw him smile. She found herself smiling with them by just watching.

Gendry chose that moment to look towards her. Her smile died instantly as she looked away in embarrassment of being caught staring. Waiting a few seconds, Arya chanced a glance at him again. He was no longer seated, but walking towards her.

"May I escort you back to your tent, Milady?" he asked.

Arya did not want to retire just yet. She was nowhere near being ready to sleep, and she knew she would toss and turn well into the night.

"Thank you, Ser Gendry, but I am not ready to go just yet."

Arya thought that would be the end of it, yet Gendry remained standing in front of her. His eyes searched her face for something, as if trying to read her expression. "Would you care to join me in a walk around the camp? I find that walking helps me wind down for the night." he asked her softly.

A walk sounded nice, being able to feel the breeze in her hair. "I would like that very much."

For a while, they did not speak to one another, but just enjoyed the sounds around them from the forest. As they passed the men on watch, they bowed to Arya and saluted Gendry. He saluted back to them and they kept walking. It was not until the second time around the camp that Gendry finally spoke.

"May I be frank with you, Milady?" She was not sure that she liked where this was going, but she nodded her head for him to continue. He obviously had something on his mind. "I cannot help but to feel that I have done some injustice towards you. You have looked upon me with anger several times, and if I have done something to offend you I am sorry."

Arya looked over at him, seeing that he meant every word. She felt guilty, for it was not his fault she was in this position no matter how much she wanted to blame him. "There is no need for an apology, Ser Gendry. You have done nothing wrong," she answered softly.

Again they fell in silence, causing Arya to panic. She did not want him to stop. She found the sound of his voice pleasant. "I must thank you for your desecration, for not telling the other men about earlier today."

"I would have never done that, Milady. I would not use your pain to get a few laughs."

Arya came to a stop, turning her whole body towards him. He took a few steps ahead before realizing that she had stopped. Turning, he looked at her in confusion. What was it about him that drew her towards him. Just this morning, she was ready to claw his eyes out, but there was something about him that calmed her. There was something about him that was inviting.

"You must think me spoiled, Ser Gendry," Arya said, her voice small.

He shook his head, "No, I do not think that. I think what could be happening to you for you to feel you must run away from everything you have ever known. I think what burdens are upon your shoulders."

It was all Arya needed to hear. His thoughts were like the floodgates being lifted. She began to pace in front of him, her mind swirling in circles. "It is everything, Ser Gendry. It is having my life planned out for me and not being able to stop it. It is the feeling of my freedom being taken away. I do not want this…this marriage. I want to be home in my bed as I was a week ago at this time before my life was turned upside down. But more than anything else, I want to choose my own destiny."

By the time she was through talking, her chest was rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes were wide, tears blinding her vision. She had not been able to truly admit how she felt since this all started and it felt good. Though she knew she would regret telling Gendry so much, she felt like something was lifted from her chest.

"I know how you feel," he said quietly.

She was taken aback by his words, confused about what they meant. "I had no choice but to join the military. I have never met my father and my mother died when I was a small boy. I was taken in by a man in Winterfell, but at the age of eighteen he sent me packing. It was either join the military or die of hunger. This is not what I would have chosen for myself, but I have made the best of it and have found some happiness in protecting the people of Winterfell."

"What would you have chosen? If you could have chosen?" Arya asked, finding that she wanted to know.

Gendry's lips twitched, his eyes looking past her in the darkness. "I would have been a blacksmith. I would have been a good one too."

"How were you able to let go of what you wanted?" Arua felt the tears building in her eyes and blinked them back.

Gendry shrugged, "You never really let it go. You just learn to accept what is and keep going."

Arya was disappointed in that answer. She could not do that. She could not just lie down and accept what she did not want. She began to walk again, feeling Gendry walk alongside her. They walked towards the group of horses the soldiers rode. Arya spotted a beautiful, black horse closest to them. As they approached, the horse gave a small whine and nodded his head up and down, as if to greet them.

"This is Titan," Gendry said, walking towards the horse and patting its head. The horse was his. She watched them a moment, watched how Gendry gave the animal a soft smile. "He's beautiful," she commented.

She walked towards the horse, but stopped when Gendry looked up suddenly. His hand jerked out, telling her to remain still. For a moment, she saw worry in the man's eyes. "He does not take too well to strangers, Milady. I do not want you to be harmed," Gendry warned.

Arya looked the horse right in the eyes, for Jon had told her that horses could smell fear. 'Look them in the eyes. Show them you do not fear them and earn their respect', his voice floated in her mind. The large beast stared back at her with interest. Arya began to walk towards Titan again, not feeling the slightest fear. When she was close enough, she lifted her hand to the horse's mouth for him to smell her scent. She heard Gendry suck in a breath, but he did not try to stop her from reaching out and touching the horse between the eyes. If he only knew what that action meant to Arya. The fact that he allowed her to decide for herself what to do meant a great deal. Perhaps she had been wrong about him all along.

Titan took a step towards Arya, bumping her with his head. "He likes you," Gendry said, stunned.

Arya smiled, feeling somewhat accomplished. "Of course he does," she said playfully, rubbing behind Titan's ears.

"I've never seen him take to someone like that. Usually the person is on their back by now." Gendry was looking from Arya to Titan, the looking of amazement plastered on his features.

"I have always wanted to ride like you men do," Arya said, without thinking. "My legs riding on both sides, riding as fast as the horse would take me, feeling the air sweep in and out around me. I was always made to ride ladylike, which meant I really couldn't ride at all, not like a horse was made to ride."

"It's an amazing feeling," Gendry answered, looking at the horse with admiration.

For a little while longer, they petted Titan without a word. Arya found that it was not uncomfortable to be in silence with Gendry. She did not feel she needed to fill the silent wholes with noise. It was contentment just to be there with him. It was some time later when the first yawn escaped her mouth. Arya chuckled, looking at Gendry.

"Are you ready to retire now, Milady?"

Although she did not want to sleep, she was feeling tired now. Nodding her head, he led her towards her tent. Stopping at the entrance, she turned back to say her goodnights to Gendry. "Thank you for the lovely walk, Ser Gendry. Thank you for listening to me rant as well," she added.

"It was no problem, Milady. As I told you before, I understand how you feel to a certain extent. Perhaps it will not be as bad as you think. Some things have a strange way of working themselves out."

With that, he bowed low and walked away. She watched him go, until the night swallowed him. His words rang in her ears. Perhaps he was right somehow. Perhaps this all would turn out better than she could hope, although she could not see how that was possible right now. Still, she could always hope. Sleep took her quickly that night, and as she slept, Arya had her first dream of Ser Gendry Waters.

**Okay peeps, you know what to do. Arya's coldness towards Gendry is slowly starting to change. Will it remain that way or will something happen to make her mad again? Hmm, guess you will just have to wait and see. Get those comments coming. Thanks! **


	5. Ride Like the Wind

**A/N: Here ya go people. I thank you for the reviews and comments! I know I am not getting a lot, but what little I have I really do appreciate! Keep them coming. On with the next chapter…**

Arya stood before the dress she was to wear for the day's journey. She thought it stupid that she was expected to ride all day in a dress. How uncomfortable it would be, and how uncomfortable it had been. For once, she wanted to wear pants like a man. For once, she wanted to wear a simple shirt. With her hands on her hips, she thought about her options.

Turning, she rushed to a small bag beside the feather bed. Rummaging through it, Arya found what she was looking for. She laid the pants and shirt on her bed, staring at the green fabric. She had found a tailor in Winterfell who agreed to secretly make the outfit for her. No one, not even Jon, knew that she had such an outfit. It seemed that would change today. Arya bit her lip, looking from the outfit she wanted to wear to the dress she was expected to wear.

"What would it hurt? Father and mother are miles away. Sansa might tell them when we get back, but what can they do about it now? If I'm going to have to be on this stupid journey I might as well be comfortable," she whispered to herself.

Nodding her head, her mind made up, she slipped the pants up to her small waist. She swung the shirt around her back, pushing her arms through the sleeves. Once the buttons were buttoned, she turned towards the large vanity mirror. For a moment, she thought she was looking at a stranger. Arya was not used to seeing herself in anything but dresses. The outfit fit her better than the big dresses. It hugged her small figure perfectly. Moving around, she was pleased when she could move without restriction.

"Perfect," she said, smiling.

Grabbing her long hair, she began to braid it to the side, allowing it to flow down the left side of her shoulder. She had never had a haircut, so her brown braid fell to her stomach.

"Arya, they are ready to…"

Arya jumped in surprise as Sansa came through the tent's entrance. Her sister stared at her, her eyes wide with disbelief. Sansa was dressed in a lavish pink dress, always the picture of perfection and grace. Her sister's eyes traveled from Arya's face to her shoes, the shock growing.

"Sansa, do not start," Arya warned, walking to her bed to put the contents back into her small bag.

"What are you wearing?" Sansa chocked out.

"I refuse to be uncomfortable any longer. If I am to travel the long road, I will do it comfortably. The dresses are stupid, Sansa. They are not made for travel and I refuse to wear them any longer."

"Arya, do you know how ridiculous you look? You do not look like a lady, a princess, but a beggar's daughter!" Sansa said, her voice rising.

"So," Arya said, shrugging her shoulders.

Sansa took in several breaths, as if she was having trouble catching her breath, or perhaps she was trying to calm her anger. Her father and mother may have sent her on this journey to watch Arya, but she would not tell her what to do.

"Take that ridiculous outfit off now, Arya!" Sansa seethed.

Arya took a step towards her sister, her smile slowly fading. "No," she said low. "What I wear is no concern of yours, Sansa. I will wear what I want without your consent."

With that, Arya stormed passed her sister, who tried to grab her arm as she passed, but Arya was quicker. She burst out the tent's entrance, the sun blinding her at first. The good mood she was in early vanished. She was mad, furious, and again she wondered what her parents were thinking sending Sansa on this trip with her. They had to have had their reasons, but none would come to Arya's mind now.

Around her, the campsite slowly disappeared as the soldiers began to pack their things away. The large fire from the night before had been put out leaving only smoke behind it. When the men noticed her, most of them did a double take. She would have to get used to such looks from the men, for none of them were probably used to seeing a woman dressed as such, especially a princess. A stern look towards their staring eyes was all it took for the men to find their activities more important than what their princess was wearing…

"Arya, get back in here and change at once!" Sansa commanded. She walked outside the tent, grabbing Arya's hand and trying to force her back into the tent.

She broke her sister's hold immediately. Without giving Sansa a chance to grab her again, she broke into a run. For a moment, Sansa chased her, but there was no way she would be able to catch up with Arya, not in the dress she was wearing. Arya laughed, knowing she had made the right decision, for she felt as free as bird running through the woods. There was no long fabric to be caught on tree branches, no lace to trip over.

Before her, Arya saw the group of horses, and she made her way towards them. Her eyes looked for a certain black horse, yet it was nowhere to be found. The horses were all brown ones. She slowed, looking around her.

"Milady?"

Arya jumped at the sound of Gendry's voice. She turned swiftly, seeing him walking his horse in her direction. He had the same stunned reaction as he took in her attire. She raised her chin slightly underneath his intense stare. There was no reason to be ashamed, so she would not look away or look down. This was her choice, and she chose to be comfortable. Finally, Gendry began to nod his head in approval.

"You will be more comfortable like that. Moreover, it will be easier to disguise you if we run into trouble. That is a nice idea, Milady."

Arya smiled, not able to hold it. Finally, someone who approved of her choice in clothing. Gendry walked towards her, cutting the distance between them. For a moment, they just stared at one another, the horse making the only noise between them. Gendry looked away first, looking around them as if he were looking for something. Arya looked around as well, trying to figure out what had his attention.

Gendry surprised her by climbing onto his horse. Was he just going to leave, no more words between them? She found that she did not want him to go, but to stay and talk with her some more. That thought had her feeling a little confused. Atop his horse, he stared down at her, a slight smile upon his face. Titan moved from side to side but stood completely still when Gendry pulled on the reigns. Slowly, he reached his hand down towards Arya.

"Give me your hand," Gendry said, softly.

For a moment, Arya did not respond, wondering what he was doing. Looking into his eyes, she saw his features soften. It was inviting, and she reached out for his large hand. The moment their skin touched, she felt the familiar spark run down her spine. She was surprised at his strength as he pulled her atop his horse, sitting her in front of him. She was engulfed in his large frame immediately, his scent floating towards her senses. He smelled of the forest, of something she could not quite put her finger on but found that it was pleasant. What was he doing?

"Sit like I am, Milady. It will be safer," he said, so close to her ear.

Arya swallowed, doing as he had told her. She maneuvered her left leg to the other side of the horse, sitting as a man did for the first time in her life. The feeling was odd to her, yet she found she liked it better than sitting sidesaddle. She felt more in control of the beast underneath her. Once she was in place, his strong arms came around her, pulling her closer to his chest. His arms stayed around her as he grabbed the reigns.

"Hold on to me, Princess Arya. Whatever you do, do not let go," Gendry whispered in her ear, using her name for the first time.

Before she could respond, Gendry whipped the reigns against Titan and they jerked forward. The only thing Arya could concentrate on, at first, was the fact that the breath was knocked from her lungs. The horse flew through the forest at a speed she did not know was possible. Arya grabbed the sides of Gendry's pants legs, her eyes wide with wonder and surprise. His arm held her tightly to him, and she did not fear falling from the horse.

"Relax," Gendry spoke just loud enough for her to hear him over the wind blowing in her face. She forced her muscles to uncoil, forced her breathing to come out long and steady. He would not let her fall, for she trusted him to hold her. As soon as she relaxed, Arya felt like she was flying. A smile began to grow as the horse flew faster past the trees of the forest. By the time they were at full speed, Arya was laughing with excitement. Behind her, she heard Gendry join in. She had wanted to feel what it was like to ride a horse the way they were meant to be rode. It was more than she could have imagined. The feeling of the wind in her face was pure joy.

Titan was an experienced horse; taking curves and corners as if it was nothing. Gendry steered them towards a path in the trees, until they came upon the road they had been traveling upon. The horse went in the opposite direction of the camp sight a little ways. Gendry slowed the horse down to the disappointment of Arya. She wanted to fly, wanted to soar. He steered the horse back around in the direction they needed to go and pulled the reigns, stopping the horse.

"More?" Gendry asked, a playful tone in his voice.

"Yes!" Arya said, excitedly.

Gendry chuckled, "As Milady commands. Titan, FLY!" Gendy ordered.

The horse did as his master bid, digging the gravel from beneath its feet and sending them soaring down the road. This time, Arya yelled in delight as the horse flew faster than it did before. The trees on either side of them blew past in a fury of green and brown. Tears of mirth filled Arya's eyes, causing her to laugh harder. This was how a horse was meant to be ridden. This was how she would always want to ride from now on thanks to Gendry. She was more aware of the man surrounding her than she had ever been. She had been so very wrong about him. All the animosity, all the hateful thoughts, she had had about him melted away by one gesture he showed her. Arya had told him how much she wanted to experience this, and he had made it possible for her.

The caravan came into view as they rounded the last corner. To Arya's dislike, Gendry began to slow Titan down. The camp was completely packed away and the men ready to go. All eyes turned to Arya and Gendry as they came closer. The stunned looks from the men as they saw their princess's attire was back, and Arya had to bite back a command for Gendry to take her the other way.

Titan came to a complete stop, and Gendry got down from the horse. He turned and grabbed Arya gently by the waist. She placed her hands upon his strong shoulders, finding that she liked the way they felt. He lowered her slowly to the ground, staring into her eyes. The men around her, her sisters and the servants, were completely forgotten for a moment and all that she could see was the blues of his eyes. He seemed to be just as transfixed upon her as she was on him. Knowing she needed to, but not wanting to, she slipped her small hands from his shoulders. The action snapped Gendry out of his staring and he turned his face away, as if embarrassed for staring.

"Thank you, Ser Gendry. That was quite amazing," she said softly.

He bowed his head, still not able to look at her. Arya looked towards the horse, wanting so much to climb atop it again. To think of having to go back into the stuffy carriage killed what little happiness Arya was feeling. Her smile died on her lips, a feeling of being trapped engulfed her again. She looked from Titan to the carriage and back to the horse again. Without a word, she turned away from Gendry and began to walk away.

"Milady," he called to her. Arya turned a little too swiftly, her hopes beginning to rise again. "It is such a beautiful day and if you would like, you are more than welcome to ride Titan for a little while."

"I do not want to take your horse, Ser Gendry. How would you travel?" she asked, though all she wanted to do was climb back on the horse.

"A little walk never hurt me. I do not mind. You are welcomed to him. Besides, I think he has taken a liking to you, the traitor." Gendry bumped the side of the horse with his shoulder playfully.

"Only if you will tell me when you tire. I will give him back immediately."

Again, she watched Gendry's hand reach out towards her. "Of course, Milady," he responded. Arya found herself back on the horse, her smile back on her face. As soon as their princess was ready, the whole caravan began to move. Arya looked behind her towards the carriage seeing Sansa staring at her. She did not look happy. In fact, she looked down right angry. Arya threw a smile in her direction, which made her sister turn away. Sansa could not ruin her good mood at the moment. She looked down at her side. Gendry walked beside her, his hands holding the reigns just in case Titan went flying. For the briefest of moments, Arya had the urge to kick the horse and make him do just that, but she feared without Gendry being with her she would fall. She squelched the urge, being content to feel the freedom of the open air.

"I fear I will have to find another horse. It seemed as if he is taken with you," Gendry said, his voice playful.

"He's magnificent, Ser Gendry. I never knew a horse could fly that fast."

Gendry looked up at Arya with pride in his eyes. "I have had him for a very long time. He is a good horse and has never let me down in battle." She watched him pat the horse lovingly.

"How long have you served in my father's army?"

Gendry thought a moment before speaking. "Three years, Milady. Three very long years. I started at the bottom and have worked my way up to the top, so I have not wasted my time."

"A life you would not have chosen for yourself," Arya said low, remembering their talk from yesterday.

He nodded his head once in response. For a while, no more words were spoken. There was something on her mind, something that she wanted to ask of him but was not sure how he would respond. In fact, she wanted to ask it of the whole caravan, but had been scared of Sansa's reaction. Arya found that after a while of talking to Gendry, she did not much care for what her sister would say.

"Ser Gendry, may I ask something of you, something from your men," Arya started, her heart beating loudly in her ears. She had not clue as to why she felt so nervous asking this of Gendry.

"You may ask anything of us, Milady."

Arya did not respond at first, but took a long, deep breath and then another to calm her nerves. "I do not want anyone to bow to me, nor do I want to be called Milady. I want to be simply Arya."

Slowly, she looked down at him. He was staring at her, his face looking confused. "You are our princess. It is the way of things," he responded, still sounding confused.

"I know how things are supposed to be, Ser Gendry. Just while we are on the road, until we get to the Twins, may I just be Arya," she asked, somewhat begging him.

She could see his mind turning, see him thinking on this. Was it possible she could get her wish? He began to nod his head as he did earlier. "It is possible that it would be safer to call you A-Arya." He looked uncomfortable saying just her name without her title. "If it is your choice I do not see why it cannot be done," he finally answered.

Arya smiled brightly, feeling a rush of gratitude towards the man. "It is what I want, Ser Gendry," she replied.

His eyes rose to her, the corner of his lips twitching. "Very well…Arya. But if I must call you by your first name, I must ask you do the same for me."

"Very well…Gendry," she said, a smile upon her face. She found she liked the sound of his name without his title. She found she liked many things about him, which made her face grow red.

They rode on in small conversation. Gendry talked more about his childhood as she told him of life in the palace. They laughed as the hours passed, and Arya found it amazing that Gendry did not look a bit tired from walking. She felt guilty, and when she offered him his horseback, he declined. She did not push him, for she did not feel like leaving his company just yet.

As noon approached, Gendry decided it was a good time to stop to rest and eat. The horses needed fresh water as well. They found a clearing in the trees and began a fire. Gendry took Titan over to a spring, tying him to the nearest tree and allowing him to drink. He helped Arya to her feet, guiding her towards the group. When he volunteered to find a deer to eat, Arya volunteered to go with him. The men stood watching her silently, as if she had just told them she turned into a dragon when the moon shown. Everyone looked at her like that but Gendry.

"If Arya wants to accompany me, then she has that right," he stated. All eyes went from Arya to Gendry. He had called her by her name. "From this moment, until we reach the Twins, we are to call her by her first name and not title. No one is to bow before her, as this is what she wishes and I have found that it will be safer for her. If we come across anyone on this road, it will be best that they not know who she is." His voice was stern, a voice not to disagree with. All around them, the men began to agree with their leader. Arya could not help but smile again.

When Titan had had his fill of water, Gendry took him and Arya deep into the woods. Behind his back sat a bow and arrow to catch their food. "Are you any good with that?" she asked him, pointing to his back.

Gendry shrugged, "Haven't missed a target yet."

They found a spot where the brush was thick and they would have cover. For the longest, they sat in silence and searched for any signs of a deer or turkey, whatever would make a good stew. Arya took a few glances out of the corner of her eyes towards Gendry. He was too busy look around the forest to notice her eyes upon him. From the side, she could see the outline of his strong jaw, watch the way his dark hair fell on his forehead. She had to fight the urge to reach out and brush his hair back from his face. Immediately, her face turned red. Why would she have such thoughts, and why would it cause her stomach to leap.

Gendry jumped up, startling her. The bow was in his hands, the arrow flying through the air before she could take a breath. She jerked her head forward, watching as a large deer feel to the ground. The animal was dead before it knew what hit him. A painless death it had been given. Gendry and Arya jumped to their feet, running towards their food. The animal was huge, well enough to feed the whole group.

"Like I said, I've never missed a target," Gendry said, looking at her and smiling.

While Gendry was tying the deer to Titan for the horse to drag back to the camp, Arya roamed around the beautiful forest. She noticed the untouched wild flowers, the wild mushrooms. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sounds around her. The forest was alive. One such noise caught her attention. The sound of a branch breaking to her left caused her eyes to come open. What she saw caused her blood to run cold.

Coming towards her, ever so slowly, was the largest wolf she had ever seen. Its head was low, its teeth bared. Arya was frozen, not able to move a muscle. The only thing that seemed to work was her eyes as she looked over towards where Gendry was standing. His back was to her, so he had no idea the danger she was in.

"Gendry!" she hissed, for her voice would not work.

Arya did not know what to do as the large beast continued to walk slowly towards her. She feared that if she turned and ran the animal would attack her. She feared that if she stood and did nothing, she would be attacked anyway. The wolf was almost to her, just a few more feet. She could see the hunger in the wild animal's eyes, could see its intentions as clearly as glass. It wanted to devour her.

"Gendry, please," she whispered, not able to scream like she wanted to.

As if he heard her, Gendry turned towards her, a smile still upon his face. The moment he saw what was happening, his smile died immediately. The color drained from his face as he looked from Arya to the large wolf. Arya stared at him, begging him to tell her what to do, begging him not to let her die.

Gendry began walking slowly towards them, catching the wolf's attention. For a moment, the beast stopped, seeing that he had another option for his meal. His angered eyes were on Gendry, watching the man closely. Arya took this moment to take a step back, but that only caused the wolf to turn back to her.

"No! Stay still," Gendry hissed at her.

She did as he told her, yet she wanted nothing more than to run, to get some distance between her and the wolf. Gendry slowly slipped his hand behind his head, reaching for one of the arrows. The bow was already ready in his other hand. The wolf must have sensed that he was his biggest danger, for he turned his direction towards Gendry leaving Arya behind him.

"Run," Gendry commanded, his voice louder.

For a moment, Arya hesitated. She stared at Gendry, afraid for him, but his eyes bore into hers. "Run! Now, Arya, go!" he yelled.

Arya turned abruptly and began to run. What neither of them expected was that the wolf would hear her and turn so suddenly that it had her head spinning. With a scream, she watched the wolf run towards her. No matter how fast she could run, there would be no way to outrun a wolf. She made the mistake of turning around and looking behind her. Her foot hit a branch sticking up from the ground and it twisted her around to where she fell on her back, hitting her head on the ground with a loud thud. The wolf was forgotten as the world around her went dark for a moment. The loudest sound she had ever heard crashed atop her head, sending her head in a panic of pain she had never felt. Her ears vibrated with such ringing. Above it all, she heard Gendry scream her name and something fall beside her. Through the blackness, she could see the wolf struggling to get to its feet. There were two arrows protruding through its back, but it got to its feet and flew away from them disappearing into the forest.

Gendry grabbed Arya in his arms gently, his pale face looking down at her. Her vision was blurred, and she could see two Gendrys above her. "Arya, talk to me," he said, worriedly.

She was blinking back tears of pain. "My head," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Can you sit up?" he asked her. She was not sure, but she would try it. As gently as he could, he sat her up. Immediately, the world around her began to spin and she grabbed a hold of his arms to keep her steady. She had never had such an experience before. He stood, scooping her up in his arms and taking her towards a fallen tree trunk. Sitting her down gently, he knelt in front of her, his worried face so close to hers.

Suddenly, she felt a feeling of sickness come over her. Gendry only had a moment to move from her path, but he must have seen it in the look upon her face, for he was out of her way just in time. Her body was overcome by violent vomiting as Arya was powerless to stop it. Soon, it turned into horrible dry heaves. For Gendry's part, he stood silently by, holding her up as she was attacked by the horrible feelings.

"I am afraid you've suffered a concussion, Arya. You hit your head pretty hard," he said softly, reaching towards the back of her head. As soon as he touched the place she had hit she hissed in pain. A new wave of nausea hit her, but she fought through it. "Sorry," he whispered.

She raised her head towards him. He was so close to her, and even through her pain, she was aware that she was surrounded by him. They sat there staring at one another until she felt the dizziness subside. Without thinking, she reached her hand up and gently touched his jaw. It felt as strong as it looked. Gendry's eyes fell shut slowly, his thick eyelashes lying on his skin. He let out a long breath, tickling Arya's face. When his eyes opened, again they were glossed over, as if he were enjoying her touch.

It was as if she were watching the scene outside her body. She watched Gendry's head begin to lean slowly towards her, breaking the distance between them. Arya had the urge to meet him halfway, to help his travel towards her lips.

Gendry stopped short, the glossy look disappearing from his eyes. A look of awareness filled his blues as he pushed away from Arya as fast as he could. He did not let her go, for she was still dizzy, but he was not as close as he was before. Arya felt disappointed immediately. He made sure she was laying against the tree trunk and stood up. She watched him walk away, almost running to get away from her. He kept his back to her as his hands ran through his thick hair. Arya could tell he was visibly upset about what almost happened.

She looked away, not helping that she felt disappointed, that she felt unwanted. He was going to kiss her, he could not deny it. Did she want him to kiss her? Did she want to experience her first kiss with him? What about her reason for being on this trip in the first place. Did she really want to go down this road with Gendry, knowing how it would end?

"Yes," she whispered to herself, the first signs of true tears in her eyes.

**Damn it Gendry! Okay people, get those review coming. You know you want to, so do not be shy! Hmm, wonder what is going to happen in the next chapter. How will Gendry act towards Arya? Will he throw caution to the wind and finish that kiss or will he realize what a dangerous mistake that was? Stay tuned! **


	6. A Matter for the Heart or the Head

**A/N: Hello everyone. I'm back with another chapter. Thanks for the great reviews and comments. I loved all of them! Don't worry, I will not stop writing just because I don't have many reviews. I write this for the ones of you who have reviewed, cause that's what matters to me. For the ones reading but haven't reviewed, thanks for your time and reading this little story of mine! Okay, on with the next chapter…**

Gendry's back was still turned to her, his hands still in his hair. Arya blinked rapidly, trying to rid herself of the tears. She would not cry in front of him. Seldom did she cry, but it seemed they wanted to choose this moment to make their presence known. He had almost kissed her, yet he had pulled away from her. She could not help but feel a little rejected. There was no way to deny that she wanted Gendry to kiss her. That thought was a hard one to swallow, but once she realized that is what she wanted, there was no way to get passed it. Arya wanted Gendry to kiss her.

She raised her head up to look at him. He was obviously still in some torment by the looks of it. His hands were in his hair, pulling slightly. The tension in his strong shoulders was evident. She could tell that he was breathing heavily. As slowly as she could, Arya rose to her feet. Instantly, the world around her began to swim. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find some balance.

"Gendry," she breathed.

"Please," he interrupted, his voice just as shaking as her own. Arya opened her eyes slowly. The world was still spinning around her, but she forced her attention upon Gendry. He turned around, facing her, and she could see shame in his eyes. The look caused her heart to drop, but she forced herself not to show it. "I must ask you to forgive me, Milady. I do not know what came over me. I know what I was about to do is punishable by death, but I must ask for your mercy," he said, bowing on one knee before her.

It was not lost on her that he had not called her by her name but by her title. Arya could not deny that it stung, but she chose not to say anything. Taking a deep breath, she took a step towards him, but she found it was not the best idea. At once, a wave of dizziness took her over. It threatened to pull her towards a sea of darkness, and she paused immediately. Closing her eyes, she fought against its hold upon her, fought against the wave of nausea. She could hear Gendry calling to her, yet she did not have the strength to answer. Arya felt herself falling towards the ground, yet she did not make impact. Instead, she felt warm, safe. When her eyes slowly opened again, she was staring into Gendry's blue eyes. He had caught her before she hit the ground.

"I must get you to a doctor, Milady," he whispered. For just a moment, they were still as stone. His stare was intense, and she found that she would have no problem staring at his eyes for as long as she lived. "Can you walk?" he asked.

Arya shook her head no. The dizziness was becoming overwhelming. She was afraid if she tried walking she would fall flat on her face. Without a word, Gendry bent over and placed his arm under her legs. As if she weighed nothing, he picked her up in his arms. Arya's arms went around his neck as she laid her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating rapidly, just as hers was beating rapidly. She felt safe in his arms, felt warm and content. To her disappointment, the feeling ended all too soon as Gendry helped her sit atop Titan. For a moment, Arya swayed before he reached up and grabbed her to steady her on the horse. She felt him climb onto Titan behind her, his strong arms around her again.

"I've got you, Milady, just relax," he said softly. Arya did exactly what he told her. She began to relax to the point where she felt sleepy. Her eyes felt heavy and she began to close them. Her body became limp in Gendry's arms.

"Milady?" came Gendry's worried voice. Arya tried to open her mouth to answer, but she found she was just too tired. Perhaps, if she were to sleep a bit then she would be able to have a chat with him. "No, no, no, talk to me. You must stay awake!" This time, his voice sounded concerned, scared.

"Tired, sleepy," Arya said with a yawn.

Suddenly, Titan came to a stop and Gendry slipped off the horse. Arya let out a small whine as she felt the warmth leave her. She was so tired she did not even realize when her feet hit the ground. Gendry had slid her off the horse and was walking her around in circles. She could hear him talking, yet in her fuzzy mind she could not make out his words. She wanted to understand him, so she forced herself awake, forced herself to concentrate.

"When I was seven years old, my master took me to a forge in the middle of town. I can still remember the sound the anvil made as the blacksmith hit it. It was as if it were singing. I remember the heat, the squelching heat, and I remember how much I loved it. Tell me what you love, Milady. Tell me something you remember," Gendry asked.

It was hard to think past the dizziness, but Arya tried her best to think of one memory she loved. She did not have many memories to choose from where she felt truly happy, but one memory did come to her finally. She felt the smile grow upon her face as her eyes came into focus. The fuzziness in her mind began to fade as she concentrated on that one memory. It was evident to her what Gendry was doing. He was trying to get her to concentrate on something other than wanting to fall asleep, for if she fell asleep with a concussion, she might not wake up.

"When I was eleven, I remember wanting nothing more than to be a soldier. I wanted to carry a sword and shoot a bow and arrow. I wanted to ride like a man and make my own way in life. I was not allowed to carry a sword or shoot a bow and arrow. I was not even allowed to ride a horse without supervision. I hated it. No one understood why I wanted that, no one but my brother Jon. Without anyone knowing, he used to steal me away when no one was looking. He would take me into the woods and put a sword in my hand and a bow and arrow on my back. For as long as we could, he would spar with me, teaching me how to defend myself. I learned to use a sword like a man and shoot better than most men. My brother Jon did that for me. That is my favorite memory," Arya said, her voice shaking towards the end.

"He sounds like a great brother," said Gendry.

Arya smiled, Jon's face filling her memory. "He is," she answered softly. For a little while longer, Gendry walked Arya around the small clearing in the forest. He did not stop until she was standing on her own strength and feeling somewhat better. The dizziness was still present, but it was not as strong as before. She still felt tired, but this time she did not feel the urge to sleep.

They climbed atop Titan again and rode back towards their camp. Gendry wasted no time in fetching the doctor for Arya, and once she was in the doctor's hands he disappeared. She was forced to lie down as the doctor looked her over. The knot on the back of her head was the size of a baseball he said, but she would be just fine. He told her to rest for the afternoon and the dizziness would subside. Beth brought her some stew and sat with her as she ate it. The warm stew helped to ease her aching head. Even Sansa seemed to be a little less argumentative as she tried to recover. Though Arya appreciated everything they did for her, there was only one person she wanted to see. She knew that her and Gendry would have to talk about what happened sooner or later and there was no point in putting off the inevitable.

As soon as she felt better, Arya arose from the bed. For reasons she could not explain, she checked her appearance in the mirror. She was never one to worry about what she looked like, but right then she wanted to make sure she did not look horrible. When she was satisfied that everything was in place, Arya walked out of the tent. The men were busy packing up their things to get back on the road. The day was still early, and there was plenty of ground still left to cover. As she passed them, she could tell the men were having a hard time not bowing to her, for some things were not so easy to forget. Still, Arya gave them credit for trying, because none of them bowed to her like she asked.

"Can you tell me where I can find Ser Gendry?" Arya asked the man she had seen Gendry talking to the night before. He was a large man with a round face, yet the look in his eyes was soft and inviting. For a moment, he looked uncomfortable, as if he did not know how to respond to his princess. Arya smiled at him, putting him at ease. That seemed to do the trick, for he smiled back at her. It warmed his face even more.

"Ser Gendry went for a walk. I think he went that way," the man answered, pointing to a small path behind them.

"Thank you…um…" she said, yet she did not know the man's name.

He smiled again. "They call me Hot Pie. I make the best Hot Pies this side of Westeros," he answered.

"Well, perhaps you will do me the honor of making me a pie so I can decide that for myself," she said playfully.

His smile was as bright as the sun. "It would be my honor," he said.

She thanked him again for his help and proceeded down the path where Hot Pie had said Gendry went. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she might be interrupting Gendry in whatever he was doing. They needed to talk about what happened. Arya needed to smooth things over, for she knew he had been upset about the almost kiss. It was not too far down the path that she found Gendry sitting on the forest floor. He was staring out ahead of him. She walked up to him, but stopped short of standing right behind him.

"Gendry," she called to him.

He flinched slightly at her voice, but did not turn around. For a moment, Arya wondered if she had made a mistake. Maybe she should have let the incident die without trying to talk about it. She shook her head no, answering her own question. This needed to be dealt with. Slowly, Gendry stood to his feet, yet did not turn around.

"I want to thank you for saving me back there."

"How are you feeling, Milady?" he asked, as if she had not just spoken.

A few seconds went by before she answered him. She felt the sting of him not using her name. "I am fine, Gendry." she answered, putting emphasis on his name. Finally, Gendry began to turn slowly towards her. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, could see him fighting a war inside his mind.

"Then, I must ask you to forgive me for my actions earlier. I almost crossed a line with you, Milady, at a vulnerable time. If anyone were to find out it would cost me my life," he said, his voice low.

"There is nothing to forgive," Arya whispered.

Gendry's eyes jerked up to her. "I tried to kiss you. That is inexcusable!" he answered, anger beginning to creep in. Arya flinched at his reaction, as if feeling the sting of a bite.

"I wanted you to kiss me." Her boldness surprised even herself. Gendry gawked at her for an instant, surprised at her words. Arya held her head high, not ashamed she had spoken her intentions aloud. It was time he knew what she wanted, knew what she desired. Even now, she wished he would try and kiss her again.

"What you say is treason, Milady," he said, stunned.

"I asked you to call me Arya!"

Gendry turned away from her again. She was starting to get used to seeing his back. His shoulders slumped as he sighed loudly. "I cannot do that." His words were but a whisper, barely audible, but Arya heard them and they felt like daggers to her heart.

"Why?"

"I think you already know. I have a job to do, Milady, and I cannot get sidetracked with other thoughts. Your wishes will be upheld. I will make sure the men call you by your name, but I beg you not to ask the same from me."

She could hear the desperation in his voice, yet she could not get past something he had just said, something that drove the hurt away and caused anger to rise within her. She was headstrong and knew she could not stop the surge of anger pushing through.

"You have a job to do? Is that what I am to you?" she spat.

Gendry turned to her when she said this, hearing the anger. She could still see the conflicting emotions in his eyes. "Yes. Your father put it on my shoulders to see you to and from the Twins and I plan on doing just that. I have never failed to do my job and I do not plan on failing this time. I know where I stand, Milady. I know what my job is!"

"You and your job can go to hell!" Arya growled. .

With that, she turned away and ran back towards the camp. How dare he think of her as just a job. How dare he see this as nothing more than his duty. Did he not know what this "job" meant to her? Did he not know this whole thing was a nightmare for her? Let him think of this however he may. So much for trying to work things out with him. She finally understood that she was no more to him than a mere job.

When she came close to the camp, she stopped. Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes to calm her rage. How stupid she was to believe he had feelings for her. How stupid she was to have feelings for him. She meant nothing more to him than what her father was paying him to do. She was a fool to think happiness was close at hand. Fairy tales were something she never believed in. That was always for Sansa to dream about. There was no knight in shining armor to scoop her away from all of this. There was no riding off into the sunset. There was only a long road to a prison, and there was only a man that thought of her as a job. Happiness was never for her to have.

Arya walked through the camp, not making eye contact with a single person. She walked into her tent and stayed there until they were underway again. The men were packed and ready to go. They stood in line atop their horses waiting for their princess to join them. Arya had slipped out of her pants and shirt and in to a purple riding dress. She felt like she was in chains again in the dress, but it fit the situation. Again, she looked like the princess she was, yet inside she felt like a prisoner.

As much as she tried to fight it, she could not help but to search for Gendry in the line of men. She found him in the front of the line where he always was. He was not on his horse like the other men, but standing beside Titan. Arya knew it was an invitation to her. She knew he was holding Titan out for her. When Gendry saw the dress she was wearing, his jaw clinched just enough for her to notice. Again, she saw the emotions swirl in his eyes, but he looked away. Her shoulders dropped, and she turned away from him and headed towards the carriage. She would not be enjoying the wind in her face on this day.

The hours slipped by in a jumble of small talk with Beth, Osha and Sansa, though Arya did not listen to most of what the girls were saying. Her mind was far away, floating out the window to the front of the caravan. She could not get Gendry off her mind. She could not forget the kiss that almost happened and the fallout afterwards. Things were more complicated than they should have been.

When a shadow crept up beside her, her heart leapt thinking it was Gendry. Arya jerked her head over, her hopes rising. The moment she saw who it was, her hopes deflated. It was not Gendry but the boy called Hot Pie. Arya tried to hide her disappointment, but she was sure it showed through.

"Ser Gendry asked me to come and check on you ladies. He wanted me to make sure you all did not need anything."

The fact that Gendry needed to send Hot Pie to ask instead of himself asking stung. Arya clenched her jaw to keep from lashing out at Hot Pie. It was not the boy's fault that Gendry was a craven. She could not take her anger out on him. Hot Pie waiting patiently for each of the women to answer. When he reached Arya, she saw something cross his eyes, as if he knew what was happening. Was it possible that Gendry had confided in the man?

"Please tell Ser Gendry we are just fine," Arya said, though there was so much more she wanted to say.

"Very well," Hot Pie said. However, before he left, his eyes darted over to Beth. Arya followed his eyes, seeing the girl staring back. She could have sworn she saw a small smile on the girl's face, but it was gone before she could really see it. When Arya looked back at the window, Hot Pie was nowhere to be found. Turning back to Beth, the girl was staring down at her hands in her lap. Yes, she had definitely seen something pass between the two, and she was hell bent on finding out what it was.

They rode on until the sun began to set. As soon as their light became less, the caravan began to slow. They found a small clearing on the right side of the path. The clearing gave them a stream that lead to a large river. The men began to set up the tents as Arya and the women sat and waited in the carriage. It was another hour before Arya found herself lying on her feather bed.

"Arya, are you coming?" Sansa asked.

She turned to her sister and shook her head no. Arya did not feel like seeing Gendry, if he showed up that was. She was starving, but she decided not to attend supper. Perhaps, when everyone went to bed she would go and grab a bite to eat. She begged for sleep to take her under, yet she was nowhere near being tired. Instead, she was left to her thoughts, thoughts that turned to Gendry and his warm embrace. Arya tossed and turned, trying to think of anything to cut through the images of Gendry's arms around her, yet she found that that was the strongest memory at that moment.

With a growl of frustration, Arya jerked out of bed and began pacing around the tent. She felt angry, sad, tired, every emotion at once. If this were what it was like to fall for someone, she would have rather stayed ignorant of all feelings. This was not what she thought it would be like. The few times Arya thought of falling for a man, it never felt like this. She looked at her parents, how much in love they were, and she always thought it would be like that. This, this was something else entirely. This was torture.

Arya stormed outside, but came up short when someone stood in front of her. She jerked back, swallowing a scream as a shadow bore down upon her. For a moment, her eyes could not see in the darkness, but they slowly adjusted to the lack of light. Gendry stood in front of her, a bowl in his hands. She stared at the bowl and then at his face. For a moment, he would not look at her, choosing the bowl to be more interesting. The silence between them was deafening and she desperately wanted to cut through it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked softly.

His face rose just an inch. It was not enough to meet her stare though. He held out the bowl for her to take. "I noticed you did not come to dinner. I know you must be starving, so I brought this for you."

Arya could not help but notice the sadness in his voice. Was it possible that he was just as miserable as she was? No, she could not think such thoughts, for they only gave her a false hope. Arya took a step towards Gendry and took the bowl from his hands. When their fingers touched, she felt a shiver run through her body. It took every ounce of strength she had not to lash out at him. There was no way that he could not feel that. There was no way he could not feel the pull as she felt.

"Thank-Thank you," she said, her voice uneven.

Arya watched, powerless to stop it, as Gendry turned away from her and began walking away. She wanted to stop him, wanted to make him face her and admit that he had feelings for her as she had for him, but he continued walking away. Maybe she was just a job to him. Maybe that almost kiss meant nothing. So caught up in her thoughts she was, that she did not she Gendry slow. Arya did not see Gendry turn on his heels and march towards her. Not until he stood inches from her did Arya realize he had come back. He was inches from her face, his body inches from her own. All she needed to do was lean in a few inches and her lips would touch his, yet she was frozen in place.

"You are not a job to me, Arya. I wish you were, gods knows I wish you were, but I am afraid you stopped being just a job to me the night I met you." His hand came up, caressing the side of her cheek. Instantly, her eyes closed on their own as she felt his touch. "I wanted to kiss you, and gods help me I still do! I want to kiss you the way you should be kissed, but I know I cannot. I can no more do what my heart begs me to do than I can pretend I do not feel something for you. The reason I fight it so is that it does not matter what I want. It does not matter, for you are meant for someone else. I cannot stop that no matter how hard I want to. Please, Arya, please release me from this prison and tell me you understand that we cannot do this!" Gendry begged.

Arya opened her eyes, seeing the torment in his eyes. She felt the lump in her throat and knew she was not able to answer him. His eyes searched her face rapidly, begging for some acknowledgement that she understood what he was saying. Though she knew he was right, knew that they could not be together, it did not make the hurt any less. All she could give him was a nod of her head, but that was enough for him. Gendry released her at once. Before she could think to stop him, he was gone. Long into the night, Arya stood in the darkness waiting for Gendry to return, yet the voice in her head told her he would not be back.

**A/N: Aww, Gendry! He is trying to do the right thing, but that boy does not know what the right thing is! He should just say the hell with it and get him some loving from Arya, but we both know I do not do things the simple way! (evil laugh). Alrighty guys, you know what to do. Get those reviews in. thanks. **


	7. A Storm is Coming

**A/N: Guess who wants to come out and talk! I actually thought this was going to just be from Arya's POV, but Gendry got mad and wanted to tell his side as well, so I had to give in! Therefore, he has joined us now. Hope y'all enjoy this next chapter! We got some action coming up in future chapters, so get ready for that! On with the show…**

All was silent as the hours ticked away into the night. Gendry knew he should be sleeping, but his mind was too heavy to relax. There was only one thing he could think of, and that one thing was driving him crazy. He always prided himself on doing the right thing, on choosing the right path, but now he was not so sure. He could not pinpoint the one thing about Arya that called to him, that drove him towards her. Perhaps, it was everything about her. She had spirit, was stubborn, and she awoke in him something that he did not know existed. She was both a meek kitten and a fiery lion. The longer he was around her, the deeper his affection for her became, but he knew that it was wrong. He knew it was a death sentence. That is why he ended it, though he regretted showing her his weakness. He regretted admitting he wanted to kiss her and that he had feelings for her.

Gendry closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He felt drained both physically and mentally, yet he could not force himself to sleep. He knew the moment his eyes closed her face would be all that he would see. It was best to remain awake; at least until he was so tired sleep would take him immediately. Even then, he feared she would haunt his dreams. Around him, the forest was eerily quiet. Now and again, the sound of small footsteps would reach his ears, but overall it was quiet. Should the forest not have more noise than this? He was not so sure.

He could hear someone walking up behind him, yet he did not turn to meet the newcomer. He already knew who it was and was not ready to meet their knowing eyes. Instead, he stared ahead. The man stood beside him, staring out into the darkness. He towered over Gendry by at least a foot, yet their strength matched one another. He trusted this man with his life, yet at that moment, he was the last person Gendry wanted to see.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Gendry," the man spoke low.

Gendry sighed, not having the strength for such a conversation, but he knew that the man would not keep quiet. Once he made his mind up to speak about this, Gendry knew the man would not stop until his point was made. It was best to get it over with.

"I know what I am doing," Gendry responded.

"Do you?" the man replied, roughly. "Because from my vantage point, it looks as though you are being stupid!"

Gendry turned towards the man, looking him straight in the eyes. Though he did not feel as though he had a hold of the situation, he would lie as best he could. Had he been that obvious? Had his feelings for Arya been that out in the open? Did the others know?

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sandor. Your vantage point is wrong," Gendry said.

Sandor watched him for a moment, his scared face unreadable. Gendry did not balk from the man's stare, but allowed the man to scrutinize him if that is what he so chose to do. Sandor was the first to turn away, and once the man did, Gendry took a deep breath. He had not realized he had been holding his breath.

"A woman like that, like Princess Arya, is told from day one that she is better than people like us, Gendry. People like her would rather spit on you than touch you any day. It is a fool's hope to believe that she could feel for you what you do for her. It is a fool's hope to keep such feelings for her in your heart. Do yourself a favor and forget those feelings. If you do not, a broken heart is the last thing you will have to worry about. Your head will be on the chopping block."

"Tell me something, Sandor, who are you trying to convince here? Are you trying to convince me…or are you trying to convince yourself?"

The moment those words spilled from Gendry's mouth, he regretted them. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Sandor flinch. It was the tiniest of movements, but he was able to see it. The man did not answer, and Gendry wondered if he would. He had never brought up what he knew of the man's feelings for a certain princess, but Gendry knew they existed. He found it ironic that Sandor would chastise him for his feelings for Ary but in a way, it made sense. It meant Sandor knew what he was talking about and not just spilling bullshit.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Sandor said, slightly angered.

"Just like I do not know what you're talking about," Gendry said low.

The two men stood in silence for what seemed like hours. Gendry wondered if he should speak. Should he apologize for taking a jab at the man when he was only trying to help? Gendry's feelings were new to him, but Sandor had had to live with his silent feelings for Sansa for over a year now. He did not need Gendry to rub it in his face.

"I'm sorry, Sandor," Gendry said, turning towards the man.

In what little light they had, Gendry saw the swirl of emotions in the man's eyes before he had time to close himself off from the world. He could count on one had the number of times he saw even one kind emotion in the man. It was a rarity to get a glimpse of what was in his heart.

"For what?" Sandor finally said, as if it were nothing. "You don't think I know my place in her eyes? You don't think I know what I am to her, a dog? I once thought like you, Gendry. I once thought I could make her happy, that I could defy the law and put my life in danger, but I learned very quickly. You will learn very quickly too! Besides, a dog and a bird could never have a life together. A monster like me would tear the bird a part."

"Sandor, just forget it," Gendry said, wanting nothing more than to change the subject.

The man shook his head, laughing, yet his laugh held no humor. "Not until you get it! In two days, you will have to stand aside while another man takes her hand, Gendry. You will be pushed over by a prince, by someone who is better than you are. When all is said and done, you will be nothing more than the man who helped her on her journey to her new life, to her new husband. The deeper you go into your feelings the worse it will be for you in the end. It will turn you into someone like me…no more than an angry fool who watches a girl in shadow and secret. Believe me; it is worse than the hells beneath our feet."

"I know," Gendry whispered.

"Do you? Cause from where I'm standing I am not so sure! More importantly, King Eddard will not think twice about having that head of yours removed. Whatever interest you have in Princess Arya is better forgotten, for the alternative has far more horrible consequences. You are no fool, so why don't you stop acting like one!"

With that, Sandor turned on his heels and walked away swiftly. Gendry watched him go, until the darkness swallowed him. Again, he was surrounded by the unusual silence of the forest. Every word Sandor had said played in his mind like a broken record. It repeated itself over and over until Gendry could recite the words himself. The man was right, was so very right, yet it did nothing to squash the longing in his heart. It did nothing to block out the sight of Arya's face in Gendry's mind.

"She will be the death of me," Gendry said, sighing heavily. For the rest of the night he watched the moon's journey across the darkened sky.

* * *

Arya had not slept a wink that night. Every time her eyes closed, his face would shine behind her closed eyelids. The way his hair fell across his forehead. The way his eyes watched her, as if he could see into her soul. The very thought of him drove her crazy. She wanted to jump from the bed and flee the tent, but she knew it would be him she would run to. Already, she had made a fool of herself. She did not want to add to her embarrassment. He had turned away from, letting her know he did not want her. She would not push him. Arya hated to admit it, but she had cried after he left her, though it had only lasted a few moments.

Her ladies and sister were already walking around the tent, up and ready to go. Arya did not yet feel like rising, but she knew that she had to. With a few deep breaths, she proceeded to get out of the warm bed. The morning was quite warm for the time of year, but it felt heavenly. Perhaps, the old timers were wrong and winter was not coming. Perhaps, it would stay summer forever.

Once again, Arya found herself in front of the vanity mirror. She looked at herself, at the bags underneath her eyes and the way her hair fell in a lump. On the side of one cheek, she saw a streak of dirt. Raising her hands to her eyes, she noticed the dirt caked underneath her fingernails. She had not had a bath since the day they left, which was two days. Looking at the other ladies, they looked as road weary as she did. Sansa just looked downright miserable. Though this usually made Arya overjoyed, she felt sorry for her sister. Always prim and proper, Sansa was not used to such rough conditions. Arya could handle a little dirt, but she knew that it was driving Sansa crazy. An idea came to her mind, one that would have to force her to come face to face with Gendry. It was no use putting it off, for she could not avoid him forever.

Arya walked towards the tent's entrance, calling to a nearby soldier. The man was before her at once, waiting patiently for her instructions. She asked the man to call Gendry to her tent and the man left to do as he was told. Arya walked out into the morning, closing the tent completely behind her. It would be the first time she saw Gendry since the night before and she did not want to have to do it in front of Sansa and the other women. It would be hard enough to look into his eyes as if nothing happened. She did not want them to have an audience.

She did not have to wait long as footsteps approached her. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and met Gendry's concerned eyes. The moment she saw him, she could tell that he slept no better than she did. He looked completely drained, as if he had stayed up the entire night. Though he tried to hide it, she could see past his façade.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked softly.

The sound of his voice almost caused her to run back into the tent. Arya had to be strong, had to overcome her hurt or it would consume her. She was stuck on this journey with him for a long while, and she could not allow her feelings to overtake her. He had made it perfectly clear that they could not act upon what they felt for one another. She held on to how dangerous it was for him. That was possibly her only saving grace in this whole mess. She would protect him at all cost if she had to.

"No," she responded, clearing her throat, "It is just that me and the other ladies have not bathed since leaving Winterfell. I noticed a river not too far from the camp sight, and I think it would do us all good if we had a bath before we leave."

At once, the concern in Gendry's face eased. It was replaced by more weariness, and Arya did not think he thought it such a good idea. If she wanted to, she could command it, but that was not the way she wanted to go about doing things. Arya had never been one for commands. She felt the person had a right to refuse her if that was their choice.

"I do not see why not. If you will allow me and a few of the men to accompany you to the river, we could go at once."

Arya looked around, embarrassed. "We-uh-we could not bathe in front of you and your men."

It was Gendry's turn to look embarrassed. She watched him scratch the back of his neck, his tanned face turning red. "You are correct, Milady. We will accompany you as far as we can. Then, we will give you and the ladies privacy."

Gendry left her to gather his men, and Arya went back in the tent to tell the others that they would be bathing before they left. The excitement was immediate in Sansa. Her smile covered her entire face, and Arya found she was glad she could make her sister happy. Though they did not get along half of the time, she still loved her very much.

A half hour later, Arya, Sansa, Beth and Osha were walking towards the river. Surrounding them were Gendry and three of his men. One of the men was Sandor Clegane. Arya watched the man out of the corner of her eye. She stared at his scarred face, wondering how the scars had happened. Whatever had happened, it looked painful. Several times, his eyes traveled to Sansa, though no one seemed to notice but Arya. The further they walked, the braver he would get, turning his entire face towards her sister. Arya found this very interesting. The sound of the river floated towards them, letting them know they were very close. Gendry stopped, along with his men, and he turned towards Arya and the ladies.

"Just around this corner is the river. We will be here, out of sight, but if you need us for any reason just call to us. We will be there immediately," Gendry instructed.

They rounded the corner, and the moment the men were out of sight, Arya and the ladies began to run towards the inviting water. Each one of them stripped in record time and ran into the water. At first touch, the water was chilly, but the longer Arya stayed in the water the warmer it got. Even Sansa began to laugh as she soaked in the clean water.

The river was quite wide. Where ever it leads to was a mystery, for it stretched around curves too far for Arya to see. The bank on the other side was a lengthy swim to reach. However, the water was amazing and clean. Arya dove under the surface, feeling the water splash onto her face. Her hands went through her long brown hair, cleaning it. When she reemerged, she could hear the ladies giggling, splashing the water in each other's faces. She joined in with them, laughing for the first time since Gendry had taken her for a ride on Titan.

Lying on her back, Arya floated on the water. She stared above her at the tops of the trees. She watched the birds fly above her head as squirrels jumped from limb to limb. For just a moment, she could imagine herself in the godswood back in Winterfell. Just for a moment, she could forget where she was and why she was here. It was the most peace she had had since she had left her home. Even in that moment, Gendry's face could not penetrate the wonders of the trees above her.

Arya felt herself relax and welcomed the water over her face. She was sinking underneath the water, yet the peace remained. Her whole body relaxed as she began sinking to the bottom. Nothing matter at that moment, nothing but the feeling of the cool water. If it were possible, she could stay down there forever. Even as her lungs began to burn, she held on just a little longer. Her arms were out at her side, floating in the dark water. She had no idea how far down she had sank, but she could not feel the bottom of the river at her feet. Arya would hold her breath forever to keep the peace she felt.

Somewhere above her, she could hear them calling to her, but she was not ready to come to the surface yet. She had enough air in her lungs to hold on for a bit longer. As soon as she could not hold out any longer, she would break the surface but right now, she would hold to her peace. Arya cleared her mind of everything, feeling nothing at all. It was wonderful.

The voices above her ceased, but a loud splash followed. The sound broke through her peaceful world, but that was not what caused her to lose the last remaining bit of air in her lungs. Suddenly, an arm came around her waist, jerking her upwards. Arya opened her mouth to scream in surprise, but it only caused her to swallow a large amount of water. Someone had a strong hold on her, forcing her to the top at a rapid speed.

As soon as she broke the surface, Arya let out a loud breath. She coughed and spit up the water she had swallowed. The arm stayed around her waist, and she could feel something solid behind her. Arya could not speak for a moment as she coughed up more water. Confusion took over at once, causing the peace to vanish as fast as it came.

"What in the hells do you think you are doing?" came an angered whisper in her ear.

Arya stilled her movements at once, hearing Gendry's voice. He held her tightly; her back pushed against his chest. She struggled against him, struggled to keep her naked body underneath the water. Had he completely lost his mind? What caused him to jump in after her?

"Let me go," she said, out of breath.

"Why? So you can dive back down there and kill yourself?" he spat.

Again, she stilled his words stinging. She turned her head slightly to look at him. His face was completely red, his eyes angered. Did he really think that was what she was doing? Trying to kill herself? Their faces were inches from each other, and she watched a drop of water slide from his eyelashes. It worked its way down his cheek to his clamped jaw and down his neck into his wet shirt. His back hair was plastered to his forehead, causing his eyes to be hooded.

"Please, let me go," she whispered. His hold on her let up, but he did not let her go. Arya could tell he did not realize she was naked, and she was desperate to keep it that way. How embarrassing this was. While she struggled to keep her dignity, he refused to let her go. "I was not trying to kill myself, Gendry. I was just about to come back up. It felt peaceful down there. Can I not enjoy a little peace?"

For a moment, he did not look as though he believed her. As the moments ticked by, his anger began to fade. He let out a deep breath, as if he were relieved. "When I saw your servant girl, Beth I think is her name, running towards me and the men screaming about you not coming up from underneath the water I panicked. I apologize for assuming the worst," he said.

His hold remained around her waist, as if he did not want to let her go. Although, she enjoyed his touch, she felt completely self-conscious. She wondered if she would have to bring to his attention that she was naked or would he recognize her state. She did not have to wait long as she felt him go rigid. Gendry even stopped breathing for a moment. Though she tried not to, Arya could not help but smile. It seemed that Gendry finally realized he was holding a naked woman in his arms.

"I-uh-I-damn it," he said, releasing her at once.

The moment they were apart, Arya covered herself with the water, only keeping her neck and head above the surface. Gendry turned as fast as was possible away from her. His clothes were plastered to his hard back and strong shoulders. The water came up to his stomach.

"F-Forgive me, Milady," he said, fumbling with his words.

"There is nothing to forgive. There was no harm done," Arya said, trying very hard not to laugh. Not that she got any enjoyment out of his embarrassment, but it was just her luck that this would happen to them.

"I'll-uh-I will leave you to get dressed," Gendry said, climbing awkwardly out of the water.

"Gendry," Arya called to him. He stopped at once, one foot out of the water as one foot remained in. He did not turn back to her, but stood with his back facing her. She could see his breath coming out in short bursts. He was shaken up by the experience. "Thank you anyway, for trying to save me."

He turned his head to the side, looking at her out of the corner of her eye. He nodded his head slightly. "I will always try to save you, Milady," he said. Without another word, he walked away.

Arya got out and dried off, slipping into a purple riding dress. She let her hair fall down her back, drying the water from it as best she could. When she walked around the corner, the only person waiting was Gendry. He did not meet her eyes, choosing to look over her head. It took all she could do not to laugh. Why she found it so amusing she could not say, but it beat the melancholy feeling from earlier.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked.

"They went back to camp after I told them everything was fine. The men are packing up and we will leave shortly."

The two began walking in silence. Arya wanted to break the ice by saying something, but she was not sure if that was such a great idea.

"I-I want to apologize again for earlier. I am quite embarrassed, Milady," Gendry said. She was surprised he said anything at all.

"Like I told you earlier, it is fine. You were just doing your job. You thought I was in trouble. I understand."

This seemed to ease some of the tension in his body. She watched his shoulders relax, watched his face lose some of its seriousness. Arya began to slow, until she stopped completely. Gendry turned to her, looking at her with confusion. If they were to continue, Arya wanted there to be no tension between them. She had enjoyed his company and had missed it greatly the night before.

"I do not like this strain between us, Gendry. Is there any way to start over I-I understand what can and cannot be, but that does not mean we have to walk on eggshells around one another, does it?"

Gendry looked away from her, a long pause between them. "No, we do not have to avoid one another. It is not what I want. I enjoy your company; enjoy talking with you, Milady. I, too, know what can and cannot be," he said softly.

"Then let us begin again," Arya said, taking a step towards him and reaching her hand out to him. "My name is Arya Stark. It is nice to meet you."

Gendry looked at her hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Slowly, his hand reached up and engulfed her own. Arya immediately felt the spark, but she forced herself to ignore it. The moment they touched, she could have sworn she saw Gendry flinched, as if he felt the spark as well. His eyes closed briefly. It all lasted for just a second before he regained control.

"It is nice to meet you, Arya Stark. My name is Gendry Waters," he replied.

Though she still felt her heart skip a beat, still felt a pull towards the man in front of her, Arya felt she would be happy with any kind of affection from him at this point. All she had to do was remind herself of the dangers he faced if she had her way. The truth of it was she could not allow him to face such dangers on her account. Arya would not have that on her conscious.

Together, they walked back to camp. By the time they made it back, the caravan was almost ready to leave. Gendry left her at her tent to join his men. When she joined Sansa and the other women, their questions came out all at once. She eased their worries by explaining what really happened. She explained how she was just enjoying the water. Though their concerns were still evident, they seemed to believe her. As they passed her to head towards the carriage, Arya caught Beth's eye. There was something about the girl's expression, something about the mischief floating in the girl's green eyes. Arya's suspicions were found correct as Beth winked at her and smiled. Could it be possible that the girl had caused the whole scene at the river? Did she set Gendry up to get involved? Again, the girl winked and this time she laughed. Arya had no time to ask her as she climbed inside the carriage. She made a mental note to ask Beth later.

Before climbing into the carriage, Arya looked around at the caravan. Her eyes found Gendry at the front of the line. He was standing beside Titan, staring at her. With a soft smile, he held out the reigns in her direction, inviting her to ride the large beast. Arya could not help the large smile that took over her features. Yes, she felt like a nice ride today. Gendry helped her onto the horse, and once she was ready, they began their journey again.

The whole morning was spent in small talk about Arya's childhood. She even found herself laughing softly every once in a while. Gendry walked beside her, his face looking a lot less tired. Though she could not ride like she wanted, like a man, she still felt grateful to Gendry for allowing her to ride Titan again. She found she was falling in love with the horse more and more. Perhaps, she would find her a nice stallion like Titan when she returned.

It was just after midday when the first signs of a storm began to grow. The dark clouds hung in the distance, an ominous sign of things to come. She watched Gendry watching the clouds, watched the concern begin to grow. It was the first time they had run into the possibility of bad weather. As everyone watched the clouds above them, something else caught Arya's attention. It was far off in the distance, but it slowly began to take shape.

"Gendry, what is that?" Arya asked. He looked up at her, and then to where she was pointing.

For a moment, his face looked confused, but she began to see comprehension growing in his eyes. He grabbed the reigns from her hands, slowing down the horse to a snails pace.

"Ser Clegane," he called.

Sandor kicked his horse, coming to ride alongside Arya. He looked passed her towards Gendry. "Tell me what you see," he said to the man, his head nodding towards the objects in the road.

Sandor turned and looked, keeping quiet for just a moment. "Damn it," the man said under his breath.

Gendry nodded, hearing the man's words. Arya stared before her as the scene began to take shape. Sandor was right. "Damn," she whispered. Before them, in a line from one side of the road to the other, was a group of men. They were blocking their path to get by, and Arya knew it was not going to be as simple as asking them to step aside.

**A/N: uh oh! Who are these mysterious men and what are they doing in the middle of no where? Are they friend or foe? Guess you will just have to wait and see! Thanks so much for all the comments and reviews, the favorites and followers! You all know what to do. Review, review, review! **


	8. Blood On Her Hands

**A/N: So I must first say how very sorry I am that this chapter has taken so long to get out to you guys. Real life has gotten in my way, so I had to put this aside for a moment. My apologies. That is why I made this chapter a long one. There are some exciting things coming up soon, so I hope you'll stay with me and I will try not to take so long with my updates. Anyone that knows me from "Not Today" will know that I do not make you guys wait for updates too long. Again, thanks for all of the comments and reviews! They are awesome. Now, on with the show…**

Lightening streaked across the sky above their heads as a loud clap of thunder caused Arya to flinch. The clouds before them began to grow darker as the seconds ticked by. The men did not move from their path as Arya had hoped they would. Silently, she counted them, finding their numbers to be ten. Ten men waited for their approach.

"Send the princess back to the carriage with the rest of the women," Sandor said to Gendry.

For a moment, it did not seem as though Gendry had heard him. His eyes roamed from each man before them. Slowly, his head began to shake from side to side.

"No, it would look obvious, as if we are hiding something. We will proceed with caution, but Princess Arya will stay by my side."

Sandor did not argue, but nodded his head once. Gendry reached and grabbed the reigns from Arya's hand as gently as he could, but she felt the sweat building on his palms. It was a sign that he was concerned. Perhaps, there was nothing to be concerned about. It was possible that these men meant no harm.

"Whatever question they address to you, do not reveal your identity until we know more about their motives, is that understood?"

Gendry's voice was dead serious, which caused the hairs on the back of Arya's neck to stand. "I understand," she whispered.

They were just yards away now, and Arya was able to get a better look at the men. They looked as though they had not bathed in days, looked as though they had used the muddy earth as their beds. Arya wanted to look away from them, but she found she could not. It seemed as though they had not spotted her yet, for every pair of eyes was on Gendry. The seconds ticked by, and with them disappeared the distance between the caravan and the men standing in their path. Before Arya could blink, she was at a standstill.

For what seemed like forever, there was not a word spoken. The only noise came from the thunder above them. Arya swallowed a few times, finding the men's faces repulsive. They looked crazed, half-mad. Gendry took a few steps towards them, yet his hand never left the reigns. Arya took comfort in that, in the fact that they were linked by those reigns.

"Good day, gentlemen, my party and I would like to pass, for we have a long journey ahead of us," Gendry said, his voice loud and sure.

One of the men stepped out of the group of ten, mimicking Gendry's movements. He was tall and gaunt, with a blemished face and harsh brown eyes. When he smiled, it was that of a buzzard's smile. His teeth were yellowed and stained, with some broken all the way to the gum.

"Don't think your going anywhere, fellow, in this weather," he said, pointing behind him to the sky. When he spoke, he spoke with a lisp. "Those look like pretty rough clouds. You try and ride through that storm and you might have some serious problems."

Gendry stared out ahead of them above the man's head. Arya watched him, watched the way his eyes flickered from one end of the sky to the other. She could read it in his face, could see that Gendry agreed with the man. They would not be going anywhere until the storm blew over.

"Well, well, well, where are our manners men, we have a lady before us," the man spoke, his voice light.

Arya cringed inwardly, for everyone's attention was on her now. The men looked up at her, their lips turning towards a smile, yet they were not inviting. The barbaric state of the men caused their smiles to look hungry. She felt Gendry's hold on the reigns tighten. It even seemed as though Sandor drew closer to her in the wake of the men's attention. For her part, Arya showed no outward signs of being bothered by the men's stare. She kept her head held high, meeting every one of their eyes with her own. These men were outnumbered and could not be stupid enough to attack. She had heard about men in the forest attacking unsuspecting victims. She even heard her father speaking of it before they had left, speaking of how dangerous the journey would be.

"May I kiss the hand of such a lovely lady?" the tall man asked.

"That will not be necessary, sir. Now, I will ask again for you to stand aside and allow us to pass," Gendry said. His voice gave no room for argument. The man looked away from Arya, meeting Gendry's stare again. For the longest of moments, there was not a word spoken between anyone, just the silent battle between the two men.

"I said you won't be able to travel in that storm. You seem like a smart man, you should know that by looking at how dark it is gotten just in the few minutes we have been talking. I'm from this area, and I can tell you it will be disastrous if you try."

"What is your name, sir, and the names of your companions?" Gendry asked.

"Vargo Hoat," the man answered, bowing. "This here is Qyburn, Septon Utt, Shagwell, Fat Zollo, Rorge, Pyg, Biter and Timeon the Dornishman." As he said each man's name, they inclined their head in greeting. Their eyes were not on Gendry though, for they had looked to Arya again.

"The Bloody Mummers," Sandor whispered.

It was as if Sandor had spit on each of them. Their heads turned as one towards the man sitting beside Arya. The smiles on their faces slowly fell. Anger grew in their eyes, until it was bleeding through the expressions on their faces. Sandor had hit a nerve with the name he had called them.

"We prefer the Brave Companions if you don't mind…sir," Vargo Hoat said low, his voice dangerous.

Arya did not think Gendry's hold on the reigns could get any tighter, but she was surprised when she looked down and saw the white of his knuckles. His hand was shaking just slightly, just enough for her eyes only to see. She had never heard of the Bloody Mummers or the Brave Companions. It seemed as though Gendry and Sandor had, and by their reaction, these men were not a welcome party.

Thunder clapped above their heads again, causing Arya to jump. Gendry looked up at her, giving her a small smile, as if she needed reassurance. It was then that the skies opened up and large raindrops fell upon them. It was the moment Gendry was waiting for. He reached up and took Arya by the waist, sliding her off Titan.

"Get in the carriage," he whispered.

Arya looked at the men one more time, their smiles back on their faces. With the rain pelting their heads, they looked even more barbaric. "Arya, please," Gendry said. The sound of him saying her name brought her attention back to him. She nodded her head, letting go of his arm and doing as he had told her. Even as she walked away, she could feel the men's eyes on the back of her head. When she felt the chill grow up her spine, she fought it down.

When she reached the carriage, Sansa and the others were poking their heads out of the windows. They had seen everything unfold, and their expressions showed their worry. When Arya stepped in, soaking wet, the questions began.

"Who are they?"

"What do they want?"

"Are they going to fight?"

Arya ignored them all as she watched Gendry from the window. By his body language, she could tell he was growing angrier by the minute. She could not hear their words, for the sound of the storm was right on top of them. Suddenly, there was a bright streak across the sky careening for earth. Arya heard a loud strike and the scream of a tree in the path ahead of them. It burned with fire before falling on its side. Their path was blocked not only by the men, but also by the forest now. Arya knew one thing; they would not be going anywhere now. The large tree caused everyone to jump back in surprise.

"Let us set up camp and find shelter until this storm passes," Gendry turned and yelled to his men over the roaring of the storm.

The men did not hesitate to find a clearing in the forest and begin preparations for the camp. It seemed that the members of the Brave Companions were not through talking to Gendry. The man named Vargo Hoat stepped closer to him, almost in his face, and said something too low for Arya to hear him. She gasped when the man grabbed Gendry's arm. Sandor was there in a blink of an eye, his sword drawn to the man's neck. At once, Vargo Hoat let go of Gendry's arm and took a step back. Arya's heart hammered against her chest as everything around them froze. Sandor never dropped his blade as Vargo Hoat and his men slowly walked backwards. Even in such a tense situation, the man began to smile his arrogant smile. His beady eyes looked right past Gendry and Sandor, finding Arya unexpectedly. She heard a gasp beside her, coming from Sansa's direction, yet she never looked away from the man. His next actions caused her spine to turn. He bowed to her, his laughter reaching her ears, and then he turned and disappeared into the woods opposite from where they were to set up camp.

"How creepy," Sansa whispered.

Arya could do nothing but nod her head in agreement, as she watched the rest of the men join Vargo Hoat. When they were gone, Gendry slowly turned and met Arya's stare. She saw the concern the moment his blue eyes were visible. What bothered her the most is that he did not try to hide it. He wanted her to see the situation from his point of view and it scared her.

As soon as the camp had been set up, the skies opened up and poured down upon their heads large raindrops. The thunder shook the tents, the lightening causing everyone to duck a little lower. It seemed as though Mother Nature was letting out her rage. Arya lay on her feathered bed, drowsy with sleep that refused to take her under. Sansa stood pacing from one side of the tent to the other. Every once in a while she would slightly open the latch to the tent and peek out. The howl of the storm would grow loud every time she did this, causing her to jump back in surprise. Arya was not sure what she was looking for, but she knew her sister was scared.

"Sansa, come," Arya said gently, rising the sheep's skin blanket to allow Sansa to join her. When the girls were younger, they used to run to each other's bed after a nightmare. There, they would sooth the other's tears, until both were sound asleep. It had not happened in years, but Arya could see that Sansa needed her now. For a moment, the girl did not move. Finally, she walked towards Arya's bed and climbed in. It was odd to have Sansa's arms snake around Arya again, but it reminded her how much she had missed it.

"Sleep," Arya whispered.

"I cannot. I am ashamed to say the storm is scaring me. It seems that everything these days scare me."

Arya wrapped her arms around her sister, lightly rubbing her long red hair. "It is one of your more charming qualities, Sansa. What man doesn't love a damsel in distress?"

Sansa chuckled lightly, causing Arya to smile. These moments were rare between them, but when they came, Arya cherished them. Though it seemed these days that both her and Sansa did not get along, and were polar opposites, the love they shared as sisters would come to light when they least expected it.

"Did you see the way Ser Clegane's sword was at that man's throat before you could take a breath? I've never seen anyone move that fast," Sansa said, her voice sounding like a surprised child.

"I saw it," Arya said, the drowsiness getting heavier.

"I am not as blind as people think I am, Arya. I see things that people think I am oblivious to. I just do not acknowledge them, because what is the point. It is why I continue to pound in to your hard head that you must marry this Frey. You and I do not have the luxury of a choice."

Her words were as a whisper, yet they pounded into Arya's head as if she had screamed them. Her eyes, which had closed, slowly opened to stare at her sister. There were tears in the girl's eyes, something she had not seen in years. Sansa reached over, lightly touching Arya's cheek. She knew her sister was referring to her and Gendry, but there was something else underneath the surface. There was something else Sansa was saying, yet not saying. She stared at the girl, watching a tiny tear escape her eyes and running down her cheek, until it disappeared into her hair. A thought came to Arya; one she could not believe was true, but the longer she watched her sister, the more it became known in Sansa's eyes.

"Sandor?" Arya whispered.

Sansa laughed uncomfortably, but it was the answer Arya needed. To say that she was shocked would have been an understatement. Never in her wildest thoughts could she have seen Sansa falling for someone like Sandor Clegane.

"Do not look at me like that!" Sansa hissed, her face growing red.

Arya looked away instantly, fearing that her sister would close up on her. She waited a few moments for her sister to compose herself before slowly looking back. Sansa's look suggested she was far away, deep in thought.

"You think I am mad, do you not? I mean, I have told myself many nights that I am out of my head. He never smiles, never looks as though he is happy. He has that horrible scar on the side of his face, and when he speaks to people, his voice is harsh and gruff. There are millions of reasons why I should not be in…in," she paused a moment, swallowing, "in love with him." The last part came out almost inaudible.

"When did this happen?" was all Arya could get through her parched throat.

It was in that moment that Sansa's face melted into peace. Her lips twitched into a smile, causing the turmoil in her eyes to subside. "I cannot say when exactly it happened. At first, I was afraid of him. I would stare at his scar for longer than I was supposed to and he would growl," she said, laughing. "I noticed he would be around wherever I was going. He would stay in shadow, but it is not hard to miss his large frame. It occurred to me that he was watching me, as if protecting me. I remember this one time when I had gone to the market. There were hundreds of people around, and my guards were pushing people aside to allow me through. Well, it angered some men and they began to push back. The guards were the ones to get pushed, and that meant I was pushed as well. The market around us exploded into everyone pushing to get out of the way. I was so scared, thinking I would be trampled. Before I could stop it, I was on the ground seconds away from being trampled upon. I yelled for one of my guards, but they were too busy keeping the people from running on top of us." Sansa paused for a moment, her eyes growing distant again. Arya waited, wondering if she would continue or if she would have to ask her to continue. "That is when I felt strong arms grab me by the waist and hoist me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life. I had no idea who had grabbed me, nor did I care, for I felt safe. I heard his gruff voice yell to the men that I was unharmed and then he turned and left the market. He found an Inn and we went inside. Sitting me on a stool, he commanded the innkeeper to bring him a warm cloth. It was in that moment, underneath a small-lit room, that I saw Sandor's face for the first time. He would only hold my gaze for a moment before he went to work cleaning my arm."

Sansa stopped again, reaching up and slowly rubbing her forearm. Her eyes closed as a tiny smile played upon her lips. "You would think for a man as large as Sandor, and as gruff, he would not know how to be gentle. I was surprised to learn that day that he could have been no gentler if I was a glass. I watched his scarred face, his eyes, and I found that after only a few minutes the scars vanished. I did not see them again, nor do I see them now. When he was satisfied that I was okay, he stood up and gave me one last look before leaving. Minutes later, my guards were whisking me away to the palace. That is the only time he has physically touched me, but I know he constantly watches me. I know he is constantly there."

Arya watched as Sansa's face became sad. Lost was the peace, the happiness. She reached out, grabbing Sansa's chin and raising her eyes to meet hers. Never had she seen her sister look so sad, so miserable.

"All this time I thought you were so happy to be marrying Joffrey Baratheon," Arya whispered.

Sansa let out a hoarse laugh. "Only because I knew that was the way I should act, the way mother and father expected me to act. I did not have the luxury of being the rebellious child like you, Arya. They expected me to lead by example."

"You did a good job of acting."

Sansa smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "You will learn to find happiness wherever you can, dear sister. I was able to act the part, for I had learned that I would be taking a certain guard with me."

Arya's eyes went wide, for she had not heard this. "Sandor is going with you? How?"

"Joffrey saw him fight in the feast that was thrown in his honor when they came to visit. He wanted him at once, demanding that he join his personal guard in King's Landing. Though it was never agreed upon by father and King Robert, I know that he will go."

"How do you know?" Arya asked.

Sansa smiled a sad smile, "Because, sister…It is where I will be."

For the first time since Arya's upcoming marriage was announced, her heart did not bleed for herself. She wrapped her arms around her sister, holding her tightly. She could have never guessed that her sister would be in the same position as her. She would have never guessed that Sansa's heart could be reaching out to someone other than who she was meant to marry. All of the hateful things she had ever thought of her sister melted away. All of the hurtful thoughts she had had about Sansa on the journey did not seem to matter now.

"It is why I say to you, Arya, that I do know how you feel, for I see what is growing between you and Ser Gendry," she whispered. "But I also have to say that you must find a place deep in your heart to hide him. Selfishness will get him killed, but if you truly love him you will protect him as he protects you."

Arya's hold on Sansa tightened. "It is not fair," she said, angrily.

"Of course it is not fair. We are women and in a world such as this, we have no choices. However, it does not mean the men that rule this world can tell us how and who to love. That, they do not have control over."

It was the last words spoken between them before sleep took them both under. When Arya awoke, Sansa still slept soundly beside her. She eased herself out of the featherbed, thoughtful not to wake her sister. Osha was asleep on her bed, yet Beth was nowhere to be found. Arya thought this was odd, but shrugged her shoulders.

Outside the tent, the storm had subsided, only giving a small shake of the sky every once in a while. By the looks of it, it was late afternoon. The whole day had been wasted away by the storm, which meant they would be a day behind on schedule. Arya could not lie and say she was upset about this. Perhaps, they would run into more storms on their way. That thought brought her up short as she turned her head and searched the other side of the road to where the Brave Companions had disappeared.

"I know they are still there, though we can't see them anymore."

The voice that met her ears had her heart skipping a beat and her stomach flopping. Gendry strode towards her, his eyes looking at where she had been looking seconds ago. The concern was still evident, but it had subsided some. When he turned to meet her stare, he smiled softly. She returned his smile, though it never reached her eyes. Sansa's words floated in her mind. She would have to protect him by not acting upon her feelings. Was that even possible?

"Are you hungry?" he asked softly.

Arya shook her head, looking away. "I think I will go for a walk."

"Okay," he said. "I will join you."

With that, he stuck his arm out for her to take. The moment her hand slid into place, she felt a sense of protection that she could not explain. Being with Gendry felt right, felt complete. How was she going to turn away from such a feeling? Having no experience in such an emotion, it felt good to rely on someone else for strength. Far too long had it been that she tried to act as though she were tough, as though she needed no one to be happy. Then, walks in this soldier, this man beside her, and her whole entire world is knocked off its axis.

They walked in silence, neither knowing just what to say. Arya concentrated on the feel of his strong arms holding her, on the sound of his beating heart she could hear in the silence. It felt as if Gendry's hold on her tightened, though she could have been mistaken. She felt his heat radiating from his body warming her on such a chilly late afternoon. Underneath her hand, she could feel large, strong muscles moving with each step he took.

Slowly, she raised her head to catch a glimpse of him. What she did not expect was to meet his blue eyes staring at her. The intensity in them caused her to slow to a stop. Arya felt completely lost, as if he had put her in a trance. She longed to feel his lips upon hers, and her musing drew her stare to his lips. They were slightly parted, as if inviting her to try. By the look on Gendry's face, he was struggling just as much as she was with want.

The forest around them began to melt away, until Arya could see nothing but the man standing so close to her. Her heart leapt to her throat as Gendry turned completely towards her. The hand holding her arm began to slide upwards so very slowly that it caused her to shiver. It came to rest on her neck, holding her gently yet firmly. She swallowed the nervousness away, swallowed the anxiety of not knowing how to kiss properly, because she realized that was what Gendry's intentions were. As if to prove her thoughts right, he stepped closer towards her. His thumb began to rub the sensitive skin of her neck. For one fearful moment, Arya panicked, for she did not know where to place her hands. They dangled at her side, but that felt wrong. Gendry must have seen the panic in her eyes. He leaned forward, grabbing her right hand first and placing it on his chest above his heart. Before Arya knew it, her hands held his shirt tightly as she felt his heart hammering just as fast as her own do. What had changed in such a sort time? Why was he allowing this? She could not find her voice to ask, so she just went with it. The questions would come later.

Gendry's head began to slowly move towards Arya. A voice in her head screamed for her to close her eyes, but she did not want to. She wanted to watch him, watch the man that would give her the first kiss. The hand at her neck gently rose to the back of her head, holding her steady. She was engulfed by goose bumps from head to toe. Inches…inches, his lips were inches away, so close she could feel his breath upon her skin. It washed over her as a wave washes over sand. She felt herself floating, floating in everything that was Ser Gendry Waters.

"With this kiss, I seal my fate, but by the gods I cannot fight this anymore," he whispered, inches from her lips.

Not a second before Arya was to feel his lips upon hers; a scream ruptured the perfect world around them. One minute, Gendry was pressed against her, but the next, he was standing in her path, his sword drawn as he searched the forest around them. Confusion exploded in Arya's foggy mind, yet as she opened her mouth to ask what was happening, the scream rang out again. It was coming from the other side of the camp.

Without a word, Gendry grabbed Arya's hand and pulled her forward. By the time they came to the middle of the camp, all the men were running towards the screams, which had not stopped this time. When they got to the edge of the camp, a crowd of men had already formed. Arya could hear them shushing someone, as if to calm them.

"What is the meaning of this?" Gendry asked his voice stern and angry.

The crowd parted and Arya gasped. When she was able to see, what she saw had her stomach turning. Beth stood amongst the soldiers, her hands covered in blood.

"Beth," Arya breathed, moving past Gendry and his men to reach her friend. Tears rolled down the woman's scared face. When she saw Arya, her tears came faster. "Get a cloth! Now!" Arya commanded. She caught the woman's wrists searching for the wound that spilled her blood. For a moment, Arya could not find any. Her confused face looked up at Beth, waiting for an explanation.

"Not my blood," the woman croaked. "I…I wanted to come and feed them. I…I…."

Arya's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Feed them? Feed who?"

Before she could answer, a man ran up to the group. Arya recognized him at once. Hot Pie's face was stark white, his wide eyes bouncing to every face before them. His shirt was soaked in blood, causing some of the soldiers to gasp.

"The….the…come and see for yourself," he whispered, not able to speak without a groan.

No one hesitated to follow, not even Arya and Beth. She grabbed the woman by the waist and pushed her forward with the group. Once they rounded the large set of trees, Arya knew which direction they were going, and a sinking feeling began to grow in her stomach. Sure enough, when the crowd began to stop it did not take looking at the scene to prove her right. What she did not expect was the complete silence of every man present. Someone placed their hands on her shoulders, pushing past her gently. She had not even known that Gendry had been behind her, for she had lost him when the group began to follow Hot Pie. He pushed past his men, but his movements stopped short. She watched him flinch, watched his back grow tense to the breaking point, his shoulders as still as stone. Not one for just waiting, Arya let go of Beth and made her way towards Gendry. The men stepped aside, allowing her through, but once she saw what was before them she wished they had not been so keen to let her through.

Arya's hands went to her mouth instantly as she stifled a scream. Blood…there was blood everywhere soaking into the dirt and grass. There was blood soaked into the wood of the trees. The flies and insects were already feasting on the dead.

"My gods!" Arya croaked.

Gendry walked through the carnage, straight through the blood as if it were water. She wanted to follow him, wanted to comfort him, but she could not take her eyes off where he was going. She let out a breath, as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Gendry fell to his knees, his face pale and in shock. His hands, which had begun to shake, reached out. They came to rest on the dead body of Titan his horse. The horse's throat had been cut, his feet taken off. Titan was not alone. Lying all around him were some nine horses, all dead the same exact way. Their throats were cut, their feet cut off as well. It had been violent, and it had been senseless.

Arya's head began to turn slowly behind them, looking past her men, to the space just across from their camp. A voice in her head told her she already knew who was responsible for such carnage, but it also told her that this was only the beginning.

**Alrighty people! You know what to do. Get those reviews coming. **


	9. He Comes in the Night

**A/N: Alrighty people, here is the next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews, likes and favorites! You guys rock. **

The earth crumbled easily underneath the head of Gendry's shovel. He threw the dirt away, turning to take another shovel full. His eyes were set on his task, yet his mind was somewhere else. Around him, he forced everything away, concentrating on what he was doing only. When the memories of days past came knocking, wanting entry to his mind, he drove them away with whatever strength he could muster. If he thought on even one memory he had with the dead horse laying beside him, he would not be able to do what he must.

He was not the only one to burry their horse. Nine others dug their shovels into the ground; some harder than what was needed to break the earth. Gendry could hear some of the men crying, though they did their best to hide it. No one said a word, for what could they say? There were no words to make this better. Gendry's eyes turned dark, his face showing his anger. Why would those men do this? Why would they slaughter their horses? Everyone was sure it was the men from earlier, though they were long gone by the time a search party was formed to find them. They had found their campsite, but all that remained was the dying embers of a fire. Gendry would not be a fool and go so far as to think the men were gone. They were out there somewhere, somewhere close he expected.

His hands tightened on the handle of the shovel as he turned towards Titan. The horse lay still in death, his eyes staring but not seeing. No blood fell from the wounds on his body, for he had bled dry long ago. The horse deserved better than this, better than to die senselessly. All of the dangerous situations they had been in over the years and the gods chose this way to take the animal's life. Gendry shook his head, feeling his emotions fight their way towards the surface. If he did not get a hold of himself, the tears would burst through.

With the help of several men, Gendry pushed the horse towards the shallow grave he had made. It took five pushes, five pushes that he counted with finality. One…the horse moved a fraction. Two…just a little closer. Three…that one was a big push. Four…the horse's head lay over the hole. Five…Gendry felt the horse leave his hands, falling into the hole with a loud thump. Though he tried to cover it, he flinched at the sound. Titan had been a good companion and had saved him from countless situations where he should have been dead. This was how he would have to repay the horse, burying him in a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere.

Again, he felt his eyes sting, the first signs of tears. Grabbing the shovel, he worked the dirt back into its resting place. He moved fast, begging his mind to stop thinking. Was he not used to losing the ones he loved? First, his father and then his mother? It was a part of life, the way things work. Titan was only a chapter in his life of people and things he had lost to death.

As the last of the dirt was thrown on top of the dead horse, he felt as if he could not breathe, the emotions choking him. Gendry threw the shovel to the ground, storming off. Around the twists and turns of the forest he went. Deep in the forest he walked, not knowing where he was going but knowing he had to get away. His chest heaved for breath, his vision blurred with tears. The first memory of Titan assaulted him and he could not stop it. The lonely nights upon the battlefield where Titan had been his pillow against the hard earth. The unwavering loyalty that the horse had had for him almost was enough to break his resolve.

Gendry leaned against a large oak tree, closing his eyes to try and even out his breath. When he opened his mouth, a low moan came out. It was all it took to break the last of his strength. The tears escaped his closed eyelids, sliding down his hot cheeks. He clenched his jaw to the point of it being painful. He tried to concentrate on the pain, tried to concentrate on anything that would take his mind off the pain in his heart. His fingernails dug into the bark of the tree. He was powerless to stop the tears, powerless to stop the grief.

He barely felt the hand upon his back, barely realized someone was there with him. It was only in the wind blowing her scent to him that broke through his mind. It was in the heat of her touch upon his back that gave him the strength to open his bloodshot eyes. Though he knew he would be embarrassed when he calmed, it was in that moment he just wanted some kind of comfort.

Without a word, Gendry jerked around and grabbed her. His arms snaked around her small body, pulling her towards him and holding on as if his life depended on it. He needed to feel something, something besides the pain of losing Titan. Arya was very strong for her size, and she held him with every bit of that strength.

"I'm here, Gendry, I'm here," she whispered.

His hold on her tightened. Her hand slowly rubbed his back, the action calming him little by little. Her words of comfort allowed him the strength to slowly stop the tears. Gendry had no idea how long they stood like that, perhaps a few minutes or perhaps a few hours, but when he finally was able to stand on his own, he felt the pain subsiding. At first, he looked everywhere but Arya's eyes. Would she think him weak? Aren't men supposed to be strong, showing no emotions? When he did meet her intense stare, he found his breath taken away. There was nothing in those eyes that made him feel embarrassed. The look of love, of caring, stared at him. Long had it been that someone looked upon him like that. His mother was the last one. It dawned on Gendry, though he felt he always knew that he was slowly falling in love with this slip of a girl. This girl who stood beside him while he grieved for his best friend, his horse, without an ounce of judgment.

Arya slowly raised her hand, catching the last of the lonely teardrops upon his cheek and lightly rubbed them away. The whole time, they never lost eye contact. Gendry felt as if he could spend hours getting lost in those eyes. Arya could pierce the very soul of someone if she wanted to with those eyes. Gendry slipped his arm around her shoulder, turning them back towards the camp.

"I'm alright now," he whispered.

* * *

She knew he would clam up now, knew he would shut down and not let her in. Gendry allowed her just a moment to see him at his most vulnerable. Now, she could see the walls slowly building back within him. Not that she wanted him to hurt, but she wanted to see the real man, the one hidden behind his tough façade. By the time he lead her back to the camp, Gendry was back to his usual stony self. If one looked at him now, there would be no way of knowing that Arya had to console him just moments before.

"I am sorry but I must ask you to excuse me. I want to do another sweep of the area to make sure those scum are really gone," Gendry said, his voice too controlled.

Arya sighed, seeing that he was completely shut down now. Her hopes of being able to talk about Titan, or anything that upset him for that matter, was now long gone. His jaw was set, his eyes angry. Though she did not want him to go, she knew there was no way she could make him stay.

Gendry turned and walked away, the tension in his body evident. He might have said he was alright, but Arya did not think so. She was surprised to find that they were being watched. Sandor had been there the whole time, yet Arya had been unaware of him. Sansa was right, he loved to stand and watch in shadow. They watched one another for a few moments, until Arya finally walked towards the large man.

"Walk with me?" Arya asked, softly.

At first Sandor made no move, as if he did not hear her. Arya did not wait to see if he would follow, but began to walk away from the camp. She knew his duty would push him to move and catch up with her. What she was doing, she wasn't sure, but she just felt like walking and she wanted him to escort her. The rest would make itself known in time. Sure enough, she felt his heavy steps beside her.

For a while, no words were spoken. Arya took in the sounds of the forest, listening to the animals scurrying about in cover. The sun peaked through the trees ever so often, warming her. She walked at a slow pace, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. When the words slipped from her mouth, she surprised even herself, for the words should have only been thoughts in her head.

"What happened to your face?" she asked, softly.

She felt him flinch just slightly. If Arya could have kicked herself, she would have. That was a very private question and really none of her business, but now it hung between them like a thick mist. She did not expect him to answer, but again he surprised her.

"When I was younger, my brother pushed my face against an anvil."

Arya felt sick to her stomach the moment she heard his words. His brother had done that. Here, she was thinking he got his scars in battle. Never would she have thought it was due to his blood.

"Was justice done for you, Ser Sandor?"

He laughed, yet she could not hear any humor within it. It was more a snarl than anything. It told her all she needed to know without him answering the question.

"My father felt we could handle our own business. Nothing was done about it."

"That wasn't right," Arya whispered.

Again, another laugh. "It doesn't matter much now. I have not seen my brother in ten years. I hope the day comes that I see him again, though. I will gladly repay him for everything he did to me."

"I hope that for you as well," Arya added, turning to look at him.

For just a moment, she saw the surprise in his eyes, but it was gone within an instant. He nodded his head once, as if showing his appreciation for her understanding. She understood he needed his vengeance. Arya prayed he would get just that one day. The scars would always be there, a constant reminder, but hopefully he could have some kind of peace about it.

"She sees you, Ser Sandor. She is aware of you at all times and your protection brings her much comfort. I-I just thought you should know," Arya said, a while later. She did not feel she was breaking her confidence with Sansa, but she felt he needed to know at least something. He deserved that much.

Sandor's head jerked towards Arya at a speed she did not know existed. His eyes grew wide for a matter of seconds. His mouth came open to speak, yet his words would not come to him. He looked stunned to say the least, but it did not take long for him to recover. Sandor looked away from her, though she could tell his eyes did not see the path before them. He was far away, trapped in some memory or thought. Then, he began to smile, though it did not last long, nor did it reach his eyes. Still, it was the first time she had ever seen him smile.

"Thank you," he replied, saying no more.

For the rest of the walk, they were silent. All that needed to be said was said. All that should have been said did not matter at that moment. There was a peace around them, a solid companionship that did not need to be ruined by words. By the time Arya made it back to her tent, she felt exhausted. Kissing Sansa on the forehead, she lay down on her feather bed and was fast asleep.

When Arya awoke, the sun had given up its hold on the sky and had made way for the moon. The stars hung high above her head as she existed the tent. Everyone was already beginning to gather for supper. She saw Sansa sitting amongst the men, her beauty shining brightly in the light of the fire. She was talking softly with a few of the soldiers, yet Arya watched her cut her eyes towards Sandor a few times. Though he looked as though he paid her no attention, Arya knew better. Beside Sansa sat Beth. She had been shaken by the earlier events and finding the dead horses, but it seemed the soldier named Hot Pie had calmed her greatly. Even now, he sat beside her, their heads bent low in soft conversation.

"We should be celebrating! Our journey is almost over!" a solider yelled.

Several men agreed, their heads nodding and glasses raised in the air. The thought of the journey almost being over did not cause Arya to feel like celebrating. It made her feel like vomiting. Even as the music began to play, something upbeat and fast tempo, she wanted to run and hide. She could not stay to watch them celebrate. Perhaps, she would ask someone to bring her meal to the tent.

Arya turned to leave, but felt someone grab her hand. Turning around, she came face to face with Gendry. His look was heavy, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"They do not want to celebrate your pain, Arya. After what they went through today, they want something to be happy about. Do not take offense," he said low.

Arya forced a smile upon her face, one she did not feel. "I do not blame them for wanting something positive. I just cannot stay and celebrate as if I am happy that this journey is about to end and I will be standing at the Twins. If you will, tell one of my ladies to bring my meal to the tent when they are ready to retire."

With that, she tried to walk away, but Gendry would not let go of her hand. He held it tightly in his large, warm one.

"Dance with me?" he whispered.

Arya was caught of guard, not expecting him to be okay with showing such a large display of affection in front of the rest of the group. She looked around, seeing if anyone was watching, but found that they were a good distance away from the group. On top of that, it seemed as if they were out of reach of the fire. The shadows had engulf them now. It was all Arya needed to know as she melted into his hold.

Gendry wrapped his large arms around her, making her feel safe. She always felt safe in his arms. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her. Still, it wasn't close enough. She wanted to feel him closer, wanted to feel nothing but Gendry. As they slowly danced, there was no denying it anymore. Arya knew she had to be honest with herself, knew there was no way to lie anymore. Somehow, in the last few days, something had happened between her and Gendry. It was building, becoming something that she could no longer ignore. Arya was falling in love with Gendry.

Her eyes slowly closed, her mouth opening just slightly as she exhaled. Her hold on him became stronger, as if she feared if she let him go he would be gone. Though she felt the tears threaten her eyes, she pushed them away. She would be strong here, for she had to be. This is what it felt like to fall in love. This is what it felt like to love someone more than you loved yourself. This was love. But this was a love that was doomed to fail. How unfair was it that she had finally learned to love just to realize it had no hope of seeing the light. Gendry would die for the love she held for him.

Suddenly, she jerked away from him. Her eyes darted anywhere besides where he was standing. Arya had to get out of there before she spilled to him how she felt. Her heart was hammering in her body, making it hard to concentrate on anything besides the sound.

"Excuse me," she barely was able to say.

She pushed passed him. He tried to grab her hand, but she dodged him, wanting nothing more than to be far away from Gendry. He tried to grab her again, but she was faster. Arya began to run, though she could hear him calling to her. By the time she reached her tent, his voice could not be heard. He had stopped calling to her. She had to make it into the tent before the tears fell, as if the tent could hide her true feelings. When she passed the soldier guarding her tent, she almost yelled at him to stand upright. It looked as if he had fallen asleep, but she kept her mouth shut. It would not be fair to take her pain out on him. They were all exhausted. It was not this soldier's fault. Arya passed him without a word and entered into her warm tent.

She stumbled towards her feather bed, for the tears in her eyes blinded her sight. Sitting down with a loud huff, Arya allowed the tears to fall for a moment. A moment was all she would allow herself to grieve for something she could not have. What good would it do anyway? It would not change her fate, would not change her course. It did not matter that she had fallen in love with Gendry. Nothing mattered but what was already arranged.

As she tried to piece herself back together, she began to feel a light breeze blowing in her face. Her long hair blew gently about her shoulders. Sniffing, Arya looked up at the entrance, for she thought someone had entered. When her eyes met nothing, her forehead scrunched up in confusion. There was no one there, the latch firmly in place, yet she could still feel the breeze. Her heartache turned to confusion instantly.

Rising from the bed, she walked to the middle of the tent, turning in a slow circle. From this point, she could feel the breeze head-on. Something wasn't right, and she felt it with every fiber of her being. With her back to the entrance, she stared at the back of the tent. Squinting her eyes, it was then that she saw it and it froze her blood.

A slit, as large as a person's body, had been cut into the fabric of her tent. It gently flapped in the wind. Arya's heart began to hammer in her ears, her adrenaline beginning to course through her veins. As slowly as she could, she moved one foot backwards heading towards the tent's entrance. A voice in her mind screamed at her to get out, screamed that danger was close at hand. No sooner had she taken that step than she saw a shadow move in the darkness of the tent.

Vargo Hoat emerged from the darkness, his face lit by a predatory smile. His eyes were crazed, his hair standing at all angles. In one hand he held a large blade, while the other held some rope. It was plain to Arya what he wanted to do.

"Hello, Princess," he hissed.

Arya swallowed her fear. He knew who she was, knew that she was royalty. Again, she took another step, but it was as if she were miles away from her escape. It would take Vargo Hoat only a second to reach her and do gods knows what to her before she could reach a safe haven. It did not matter, for she had to try.

Without thought or plan, Arya jerked around and dove for the entrance of the tent, begging her feet to move faster than they ever had before. Her hand reached out, grabbing the fabric that separated her from safety. It wasn't enough. The moment she tried to push herself outside of the tent, something came down on her back hard. She fell to the ground with a large thud, the breath being taken from her.

"Help…," she tried to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth.

Still, she knew it was enough to get the soldier outside her door's attention. In less than a second he would be here to save her. Arya felt herself being dragged backwards, and she yelled out in pain as Vargo Hoat grabbed a hand-full of hair and dragged her to her feet. Any moment, she knew a large chunk of dark hair would fall out in his hands. Her scalp was on fire, causing her eyes to water and her mouth to open in a silent scream.

He threw her on the bed, releasing her from the white, hot pain of him pulling her hair. For a moment, she was stunned by the relief, but it did not last long as she tried to climb to the other side of the bed to get away. He was there in an instant, holding her down on her stomach.

"_Help me!" _she was finally able to scream.

This angered him and he struck her in the back of the head with the blunt part of the blade almost causing her to black out. In the moments following that hit, he could have done anything he wanted to and she would have been powerless to stop him. Arya was trapped in a tug-of-war with falling under the blackness. She knew if she lost consciousness her life would be over. She would never wake. That was all she needed to grab a hold of her surroundings again and fight against the man trying to assault her.

"Get…off…of…me!" she ground out, reaching up to scratch his face.

Her fingernails made contact with the left side of his cheek, ripping the skin from its place. Blood began to bubble out, dripping down on top of her. For a moment, Vargo Hoat was stunned that she had fought back, but his stunned state did not last long. Anger took over, and with his hand, he drew it across her face hard. Arya felt her delicate skin sizzle with horrible pain, as if being burned. Though it hurt something fierce, it was not as painful as the blow to the head.

"Your men should be more careful next time about how much they run their mouths! A princess catches a mighty high price in these parts. Do you know what happens to a woman who is sold to the likes of the men I know?" he whispered in her ear, the laughter vibrating from his chest. "First, I will have my way with you, and then I will sell you. Of course I will take my souvenir…your feet and hands."

Arya felt the bile rise within her throat. She forced it back down, forced herself to concentrate past his words and the stench that radiated from his unwashed body. As he remained on top of her, smiling in her face and continuing to go in to depth about what his plan was for her, Arya slowly moved her hand to the side of her nightstand. Within it was something that would help her get out of this.

Vargo Hoat's laughter rose higher, causing her movements to stop. She looked at him, her body beginning to shake. He was looking at what she was doing, at her hand in the nightstand. Slowly, his head began to shake as his eyes turned back to her. He had caught her.

"Did you not think I would check for weapons? You are not the usual woman. You have fire within you, feisty to a fault. I was not going to take any chances. The blade you are searching for lies within the chest of the soldier standing outside your tent as we speak. He went quietly, of course, but he is dead nonetheless."

Arya's eyes grew wide, for that was the only way she was going to get out of this. The man, the one she thought was sleeping, was dead. He would be of no help to her. The dagger, the one Jon had given her, was in the man's chest right now, far out of her reach. There was only one other option she had, but she would have to be presented the perfect opportunity. She needed space between her body and Vargo Hoat.

As if the gods heard her pleas, Vargo Hoat made a wrong move. Though it was smallest of movements, it was enough for Arya to move her small knee into place. With all the strength she could muster, with every angered bone in her body, she thrust her knee upwards meeting the sensitive part of a man's body. The effects were immediate as Vargo Hoat's mouth opened in a silent scream and his eyes slammed shut. Arya grabbed the front of his shirt, rolling him off her and jumping from the bed.

She fell to the ground, hard, her feet tangled in the bed sheets. With a cry of fear she untangled herself as fast as she could, every second ticking away from her and getting to freedom. Already, she could see Vargo Hoat gathering himself again. Her window of escape was closing and she feared that this time would be the end. He would kill her for sure, damn the rewards of selling her. Right as he got his bearings again, Arya felt herself freed from the bed sheets. She pushed herself towards the entrance. This time, she opened her mouth and let out the loudest scream to ever fall from her lips.

"GENDRY!" she screamed, praying he was close enough to hear.

Arya was almost out of the tent; just a half-second longer and she would be free. The window of freedom came crashing down upon her as she felt Vargo Hoat grab her again. With a grunt of furious anger, he threw her back into the tent. She crashed down on the ground, this time feeling the pain everywhere. Her hip took the brunt of the damage, but she refused to give up. With everything she had, Arya began to crawl towards the slit in the tent. Her face was dirty, the tears leaving their streaks upon her cheeks.

"You will pay for that, bitch," Vargo Hoat spat.

Arya turned just in time to see him raise the blade in the air.

**A/N: uh oh! Run Arya, ruuuuuun! Okay peeps, I need those reviews. I will try to get the next chapter out in the next couple of days. I will not keep you in suspense for long. How will Arya get out of this one? Will Gendry come in and save the day? You will just have to wait and see! **


	10. The Knight In Shining Armor

**A/N: I want to first start off by saying how sorry I am that it has taken me so long to get this chapter out. I have had computer problems over the past weeks to where I lost everything I've written, every picture I've taken...everything that was on that computer. After two visits to the computer store, I finally had to break down and buy a new computer. That and real life has kept me from getting this out sooner, so I apologize! This story will never be abandoned, I assure you. Now, let's talk about this past Game of Thrones episode. I must say that I felt Gendry and Arya take my heart from my chest, throw it on the ground and stomp on it! I can't even begin to handle this season. We just watched our two favorite people crush each other in a matter of minutes, because that's what happened. The looks on their faces were absolute devastation. They tore one another a part and it won't be right again till their back together, which I feel will happen one day! Don't worry, I do not think we have seen the last of Gendry. Besides, If Edric Storm is not in the show, who do you think will fill that storyline...Gendry of course! And where does Edric end up in the books? That's right people...The Free Cities. Maybe one day he will help Arya find her true self again! "You wouldn't be my family. You'd be Milady!" Oh poor Gendry, you summer child!**

Arya scrambled back as far as she could go, but she ran out of room. Vargo Hoat took a step towards her. For the last moments of her life, Arya watched the faces of her family run through her mind. Never again would she hear her brothers' laughter. Never again would she be able to hug Jon. Even the thought of never be able to quarrel with Sansa caused Arya a pang of sadness. She would die here in this darkened tent in the middle of nowhere.

"Entitled all your life, you have never known true fear till now have you, princess." His voice was quiet, yet Arya felt every word as if it were a whip slapping flesh.

He took another step towards, and she began frantically searching for some kind of weapon. If he noticed, he did not seem to mind. His eyes never left hers, and she dared not look away from him. The blade in his hand was still raised.

"I was going to take you back to my men, but you've angered me. That was not wise, princess," he said with mock heaviness in his voice.

Vargo Hoat took one last step towards Arya, closing the small gap between them. In one last desperate attempt to escape, she kicked her leg out towards his knee, but he had anticipated her move and dodged it easily. He reached down, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her roughly to her feet. Hatred dripped from his eye, liquor upon his breath. Arya watched, helplessly, as he brought the blade towards her neck to slit her throat.

The next moments happened in a sudden blur of movement. One minute Vargo Hoat held the blade to her neck and the next, he was flying across the room. Arya fell in a heap on the ground, her mind not understanding what was happening. She should be dead, yet her heart continued to beat. Her blood should be flowing from her neck, yet it continued to flow within her. She shook her head, trying to find her bearings. Arya searched for the man who wanted to murder her, yet her vision was obstructed by something standing in front of her. When her mind caught up with the here and now, she realized someone was standing in front of her, shielding her.

"Well, well, well...if it isn't the knight in shining armor," Vargo Hoat said, laughing.

Gendry stood between the crazed man and Arya, his sword in hand. He was crouched low, waiting for the attack to come. Vargo Hoat rose to his feet, his smile still plastered upon his face.

"My men are coming, and if you value your life you will put down your blade," Gendry warned.

"You will be dead before they arrive," Vargo Hoat hissed, charging. Gendry was ready, blocking his blow with his sword. The tent exploded with the sound of metal on metal, the sound deafening in the quiet darkness. The man tried to change their positions, tried moving Gendry from standing in front of Arya, yet he held his ground. The impact of Gendry's blows pushed Vargo Hoat back, yet the man would not give up so easily.

Again, he charged, going for Gendry's stomach. Gendry barely raised his blade in time to stop the lethal assault. This time it was Gendry that was pushed back, almost tripping over Arya. She scrambled from his path just in time, yet it opened a direct path for Vargo Hoat. He saw the path was clear and lunged for Arya instead. His hand barely brushed her arm before Gendry rammed himself into the man's side sending them towards the feather bed. They crashed into the bed, breaking it instantly with their weight.

Their blades went flying from their hands, and both men scrambled to their feet to retrieve them. It was Vargo Hoat who reached his first. He grabbed the blade and turned to strike Gendry. Arya did not hesitate, did not think of the consequences of her actions if she failed. She was on her feet in an instant, jumping on top of the man's back. She began pulling his hair and scratching every piece of flesh her hands could find. He screamed, reaching behind him to try and pry her off. She felt his hands grab her hair and knew she would feel pain in the next few seconds.

She was right. Vargo Hoat twisted her off of his back, sending her flying towards the ground. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, causing her side to explode in fire and pain.

"Bitch!" he yelled.

Arya tried desperately to scramble away, for she could sense him reaching down for her. If he placed his hands upon her again she would be dead. In his anger towards Arya, he had forgotten about Gendry, who had retrieved his sword and was charging. Vargo Hoat turned at the last moment, raising his blade on instinct.

Arya turned to watch the scene behind her, her eyes growing wide as she watched the man strike at Gendry. Though he was able to block most of the impact, the blade sliced into Gendry's shoulder.

"NO!" Arya screamed.

Gendry never screamed, only grunted, as the blood began to pour from his wound. With his good arm, he raised his elbow up and struck Vargo Hoat in the face. The impact was deafening as Arya heard the man's nose break instantly. Blood began to pour from his nostrils. He reached up to try and stop the bleeding, screaming in pain. It gave Gendry the opening he needed and with the end of his blade, he struck Vargo Hoat in the face again, causing the man to fall to the ground unconscious.

Arya watched Gendry stand above the man, his chest rising and falling faster than she had ever seen. His eyes were glossy, his teeth bared in hatred as he stared at the man at his feet. This was the Gendry that she had never seen. This was the warrior she had heard men tell tales about at night. She remained on the floor, as still as stone, afraid one wrong move would cause Gendry to turn on her, yet she knew he would never harm her.

It was then that the entrance of her tent flew open and the men flew in. They did not stop until the small tent was packed and uncomfortable. Some went straight for Gendry and an unconscious Vargo Hoat, while some went towards Arya. Before her vision was blocked, she saw Gendry fall to his knees, as if his strength had given out.

"Tie him up and take him to my tent. Have six men stand guard inside, while another ten stand guard outside. I want another ten men standing guard all around this tent right now!" Gendry commanded, yet his voice had lost some of it's strength. Without question, some of the men began to drag Vargo Hoat away.

"Fetch the Maester at once!" Hot Pie said. Two soldiers ran out of the tent to do as he had told them. The rest of the soldiers began to file out, going about their orders. Hot Pie grabbed Gendry under his good arm and helped him to his feet. The bed was destroyed, lying in a pile of wood and feathers. Instead, Hot Pie directed Gendry towards the only chair in the tent.

"I am alright, Hot Pie," Gendry said low.

"I am sure you are, but I would like to make sure," he answered back.

Slowly, Gendry's eyes turned towards Arya. She stood there, not knowing what to do, feeling her strength failing as well. How close to death she had been, yet death had not taken her that day.

"Not today," she whispered.

"Are you okay?" Gendry asked, his voice shaking slightly.

She could not answer him with words, afraid that the slightest movement of her lips would cause her to explode in tears. She would not cry, would not show weakness. Instead, she nodded her head yes. Her eyes darted towards his shoulder, his flesh exposed. She could see a large gash just close to his collar bone, yet she could not tell how deep it was. All she could see was the blood pouring from his wound.

Arya searched around her room, desperate to find some piece of cloth she could use. Lying beside her destroyed bed was a scarf that belonged to Sansa. She did not hesitate to rush to it. Grabbing it, she turned and walked towards Gendry. Their eyes met, and with her eyes she asked his permission to do what she felt she needed to do, although even if he would have objected she would have done it anyway. Gendry was losing too much blood. He nodded his head, answering her unspoken request.

As gently as she could, she laid the scarf on top of the wound. Gendry hissed and jerked away, yet Arya did not let him go. She grabbed his arm, keeping him still as she applied more pressure. He clamped his eyes shut, clenching his jaw hard. The more pressure she applied, the more she noticed beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. He was struggling to keep his composure, to keep his pain inside. Arya hated she was causing him so much pain, yet she knew her plan was working. The blood had stopped pouring down his arm, yet she could tell the scarf was beginning to become soaked. It was too much blood.

"Hot Pie, please go and get some water," Arya asked softly.

He turned and left without another word, leaving Arya and Gendry in the tent alone. The air was thick, the silence deafening. Arya stared at the scarf, watching it continue to turn red with Gendry's blood. When she looked upon his face, she could see it turning white. His eyes looked distant, glazing ever more by the second. She knew he was about to pass out and she needed him to stay with her.

"Talk to me," she whispered. Clearing her throat, she spoke louder, almost harshly commanding him. "Gendry, I need you to talk to me."

He opened his eyes, looking up at her. His lips twitched, trying to give her a smile. "I...I'm fine," he said weakly.

The blood had spread passed the scarf and was now soaking into Arya's hand. She watched it, hypnotized for a moment, before she felt Gendry shift. He leaned forward, resting his head upon her stomach. She felt his body relax, felt him grow still.

"Gendry, no!" she said desperately, pushing him backwards. He flopped back like a rag doll. His eyes, which had become hooded, looked up at her again. Without thinking, she leaned in and placed her lips upon his. It was the only thing she could think of to keep him awake, to keep him thinking.

At first, there was no response, just the feel of his chest expanding one long time. She deepened the kiss, begging him to respond, begging him not to give in to the darkness. She had a horrible feeling that if he went unconscious he would not awake.

"Kiss me, Gendry," she whispered against his lips. It was not a command, but a plea.

Suddenly, his lips began to move with hers. She felt the softness of his skin, felt the warmth within them and she took comfort in that, for the coldness had not set in yet. He was still with her. Their lips moved as one, pressing against one another, soft at first, yet the pressure began to grow.

As if the kiss gave him new strength, Gendry reached around with his good arm and wrapped it around Arya. She welcomed this new found closeness with him, sliding in between his legs and wrapping one arm around his neck. He deepened their kiss, responding to Arya and what she was trying to do. His tongue pressed against her lips, begging for entrance. Arya allowed him in immediately, tasting him. Gendry's arm around her waist tightened, showing Arya he had not lost all of his strength.

Though she did not won't to break the contact, Arya knew they needed to breathe. She leaned back slightly, yet she did not quiet move her lips away from Gendry's. She could not stop her eyes from looking towards his wound. The moment she saw the blood dripping from her arm, she flinched.

"Too much blood," she whispered to herself, yet Gendry had heard her.

He looked down at his wound, grimacing. "I will be fine," he said weakly. "Are you alright?"

Arya had forgotten all about her wounds. Her side was still on fire from where Vargo Hoat had thrown her down to the ground. She felt exhausted and sore, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

"You saved me...again," Arya said.

Gendry smiled weakly, nodding his head. Though he looked drained and weak, his eyes began to blaze with life again. "I will always protect you," he responded quietly.

Before Arya could respond, the Maester and Hot Pie hurried into the tent. If either man noticed the position that Arya and Gendry were in, none spoke it a loud. The Maester's attention was solely on Gendry and the blood running from the wound. Arya stepped back, giving the man room to work. He took the scarf from her hand, moving it back to get a good look at the damage. The moment the scarf was gone, the blood ran freely down Gendry's chest.

"Help me remove his shirt," the Maester commanded Hot Pie.

The men went to work, tediously removing Gendry's ruined shirt from his body. The movement caused Gendry to hiss and grunt in pain. Arya stood by helplessly watching the scene. She wanted to do something to help, but she did not know how.

"If I do not close up this wound immediately you will bleed to death, Sir Gendry. I could retrieve some Milk of the Poppy, but I fear the more time that passes the worse it will be for you."

"Do it," Gendry growled through clenched teeth. The Maester did not waste time, but began to ready himself for sowing up Gendry's wound.

Gendry looked at Arya, as the first stitch was put in. Again, his jaw clenched so tightly that Arya feared his bone would break. His eyes watered, yet not a tear fell. His hands balled into fists, as if ready to strike. With each passes stitch, his grunts grew louder, his jaw more clenched. Arya could not help each flinch that shook her as the needle passed through Gendry's flesh. He was doing this without a single drop of something that would dull his pain. The only positive that Arya could see was the fact that the blood grew less and less, until the final stitch was placed and no more of Gendry's blood was spilled.

It felt like an eternity for the Maester to complete his work. The old man cleaned his hands and inspected his work. With a nod of his head, he showed his approval that all was well. "Your shoulder will be very sore, Sir Gendry, but I will give you a small dosage of the Milk of the Poppy to help with that. You have lost a lot of blood, too much in my opinion. I fear that if I would have been only minutes longer you would have bled to death. You must rest for now."

"I'm fine," Gendry argued. He did not heed the Maester's words and tried to stand. The moment he was on his feet, he began to sway. If not for the Maester and Hot Pie catching him, Gendry would have fallen to the ground. They sat him back in the chair, his face growing white once more.

"Rest!" the Maester said more forcefully.

When he was assured Gendry would not stand again, the man turned his attention towards Arya. "May I have a look at you, My Lady?" he asked.

Arya nodded her head, and the man took a step towards her. With frail, yet strong hands, he lifted her chin up to check the bruises upon her face. "I am fine, just some soreness. He had no chance to cut me," she said low. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gendry flinch at her words.

"Thank the gods for Sir Gendry, I must say," he responded.

"I agree," she said, turning her eyes towards the man they were discussing. This time, she saw a small smile upon his face. The color was coming back to his cheeks, though his eyes still held that glazed expression. It had been a close call for both of them, too close.

"You can use my tent to rest, Gendry," Hot Pie offered.

"I do not need to...," he began, but Arya cut him off. "Yes you do, and so do I. I do not want to be alone right now, Gendry. Let us both go and rest."

Though it would cause some to talk if they were to be seen entering the same tent together and not coming out for a long time, Arya did not seem to care at the moment. She knew that if she were to go with Gendry, he would not fight it. He did not answer at first, just stared as if thinking it over. Finally, he gave her a slight nod.

With Hot Pie's help, Gendry walked towards the boy's tent. The moon hung high above their heads. Arya had no idea how much time had passed since Vargo Hoat had entered her tent. It was in that moment, walking towards Hot Pie's tent, that the thought of her sister and the other women hit it.

"Where is Sansa, Beth and Osha?"

"They have retired to Sir Cleagan's tent. He has also given up his tent for the ladies to rest. Sir Cleagan is standing watch over the filth Hoat!" Hot Pie spat.

"I want to be notified the moment he awakes, Hot Pie. There are some questions I would like to ask that scum," Gendry said, his voice tired.

They entered the tent and Gendry went directly for the small bed. He sat down hard, jostling his shoulder, and hissed in pain. After a few moments, he laid back upon the pillow, closing his eyes and breathing a long sigh. Arya gave Hot Pie a thankful smile as he passed her to leave.

Arya searched the tent for a blanket or something she could use to lie upon the hard ground. Glancing at Gendry, she saw that he had put his good arm over his eyes. His chest rose and fell softly. She hoped he was asleep, for she knew he needed it. Not finding a single blanket to lie upon, Arya began to lay down on the hard ground. She did not care that she would have to lay here, for Gendry needed the bed more.

"If you think I will allow you to lay on the ground while I'm up here you are sorely mistaken, Arya," Gendry said softly.

"You have been badly hurt, Gendry. I will be fine, I asure you."

He removed his arm from his eyes. With one eye opened, he stared at her. "My mother taught me better," he said, moving over in the bed. "Come."

She stared at him for a moment, then looked upon the small space on the bed. He was asking her to sleep with him, though she knew he meant only to sleep. Still, the thought of lying in bed with Gendry caused Arya's stomach to flip-flop.

"Please do not force me to make you join me, Arya. I fear I do not have the strength," he said, his voice playful.

Arya rose to her feet and walked slowly towards the bed. Though she did not have a lot of room, it was enough that she could be comfortable. She climbed in beside him, careful not to move him too much. As soon as she was settled, she felt his arm snake around her back and push her towards him. Gendry held her against his chest, more tightly than she thought he had strength to do. His chin rested upon her head as his wounded shoulder rested upon a pillow propped up.

For a moment, Arya laid frozen. She did not know what to do, did not know how to lay with a man. Where did she put her arm? Around his chest?

"Relax, Arya. We are only going to sleep. I will not allow you to sleep upon the hard ground, but there is no other option but to share the bed with me. If you are too uncomfortable I will find another suitable place to sleep."

She did not want that. She wanted to be here with him, just like this. Her body began to unwind, and she slipped her arm over his chest, snuggling up to his side. His warmth engulfed her immediately, keeping the coolness of the night away. His heart beat slow and steady, a sign of his life and that death, too, did not feel the need to take him on this night. Before she knew it, she felt the weight of sleep upon her. Her eyes grew heavy and she sighed in contentment.

"Tomorrow, we have a lot to discuss, Arya."

"We do?" she said, half asleep.

She felt Gendry nod his head. "I realized something tonight, something after that kiss. Would you like to know what it is?" he asked her softly.

"Mhm," Arya answered, almost asleep.

She felt him shift, felt his lips at her ear, his breath tickling her skin. He inhaled deeply, as if preparing himself for something big. This caught Arya's attention and she found herself waking a little more.

"I have realized that I would do anything to protect you. I would give my life for you if that is what it took to keep you safe. The moment you kissed me, every barrier crumbled within me. Everything that was keeping me at arm's length to my feelings for her evaporated with just the slight touch of your lips. I knew in that moment that I was completely in love with you and there is nothing I could do to stop it."

Arya's eyes went wide at hearing his soft words. She opened her mouth to say that it was too dangerous, that it would never work. She wanted to shut out what he had said, for she had finally come to terms with the fact that they would never be together. His words were of ill timing, yet when she spoke it was none of these things. When she spoke, her heart spoke for her.

"I love you to," she whispered in the darkness.

**A/N: Alright everyone, don't think our little lovebirds are out of the woods...ohhhhh no! There is more action and danger to come, particularly in the next couple of /chapters. Get those reviews coming! Thanks.**


	11. The Warnings

**A/N: Hi all, here is the next chapter. I don't have much in the way of an author's note today, except to say that David and Dan (writers for the GOT show) can go take a flying leap into a pail of shit! LOL! What are they doing to our Gendry? I suspected he would take Edric Storm's storyline, but come on guys...don't screw up the books. Arya and Gendry reunion really really sooooon! Now, on with the show...**

Gendry turned her around, their faces inches from one another. Arya's heart hammered in her chest. She was shocked that she had spoken the words out loud. Those words were dangerous, deadly. Those words could kill, yet as the moments passed she found she was glad she had said them. She loved him, probably from the moment she had laid eyes on him and the love she felt had grown.

When Arya met his stare his eyes were wide, as if he could not believe she had said it back. "Say it again," he whispered.

She smiled at his surprise, reaching up and touching his cheek lightly. "I love you, Gendry." This time when she had spoken the words they felt natural, as if she had said them her whole life. Gendry's eyes fluttered closed for a moment before opening again.

Without warning, he captured her lips with his. Arya felt lightheaded even though she were laying down. She found that she liked the way his lips worked against her own. She liked the feelings it gave her. He was her first kiss, and he made her feel safe and confident.

"I love you too, milady," he responded, a slight ring of playfulness in his voice.

Arya laughed, slapping his chest, but the moment she did she cringed. Gendry hissed in pain, for Arya had jarred his wounded shoulder with the slap.

"I'm so sorry, Gendry," Arya said, horrified.

Gendry chuckled, pulling Arya closer to him. She laid her head back on his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. The dark room became deathly quiet as both Arya and Gendry became lost in their thoughts. There was one thought on both their minds, yet neither wanted to speak it aloud. It was not one of those things that would just go away if not discussed, no matter how much Arya wanted it to. Sighing, she knew they had to discuss it.

"Gendry, what do we do now? What about the reason we are even here in the first place...my upcoming marriage?" Her voice was weak, quiet, yet she knew he had heard her. He became still, as quiet as the dead. For a moment, she thought he had fallen asleep but looking up at his face, she saw his eyes open and staring into the darkness, saw his jaw clenched.

Arya cringed as she reminded herself of why they lay in the tent this very moment. She would sooner forget the reason she was in the middle of nowhere, but that was not possible. No matter how much she wanted to wish it away, no matter how much she wanted to stay in Gendry's arms forever, the truth of the matter was that was not possible.

"There are many things I could tell you to make you feel better, Arya. You are no child, therefore I will not treat you as one. To be honest with you, I have no clue where to go from here. All I know is that I'm here with you in this moment, at this time, and that is all that I care about. We will take it one step at a time."

"You could be killed," Arya whispered immediately after he had stopped to take a breath. "If this was ever to see the light of day, and the wrong people caught wind of it, you...would...be...dead, Gendry!"

He laid his forehead gently on hers. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her out of control heart. How would she ever live with herself if she were the reason for his death? She would not, could not, be the cause of him losing his head, yet she could not deny her feelings for him any longer. It was a horrible tug of war with her feelings.

"Hey, look at me," Gendry whispered, his breath tickling her skin.

She opened her eyes, staring at his blue eyes inches from her. He smiled softly, rubbing her cheek lightly with his knuckles. "I do not fear the repercussions I could face. I have waited a long time to feel this way, to feel that I am not alone. Arya, I have never really had a family, but with you beside me I now know what its like to love beyond what you are, beyond yourself. If I deserve to die for that, then I welcome death like a friend," he whispered.

Arya reached up, placing her small hand over his lips. "Do not speak of death, Gendry, please," she begged softly.

He took her hand away from his lips, gently kissing them. "I will do what I must to get us safely to the Twins and back to Winterfell. I know what that means, what will be asked of me. I know I will have to stand aside while you are taken into the arms of another man. Though that thought drives me insane, I will play my part to protect you. I might be a simple man, but I know better than to cross a king outright. In their minds, I will be nothing more than your guardsman. I will be nothing more than the man who stands silently by without a voice to speak his unwanted opinions, his unwanted needs and desires."

Arya listened to Gendry's words, watched the way his eyes grew distant with each passing second. She could see the years of lonely service taking its toll. She was taken aback by how different their lives were. Where she was most always the center of attention, people breaking their necks to do as she bid, Gendry had to get by on his own at a young age. The loneliness of such a life caused Arya's heart to squeeze. It made her ashamed of taking such things as friends and family for granted. Even the smallest act of sitting in a room and knowing you weren't alone, knowing someone you love was there with you, was taken for granted. Gendry humbled her in a way few had before.

"You are more than that, Gendry," Arya whispered.

His knuckles ran over her cheeks again, a small smile growing on his face. Reaching over, he gently touched her forehead with his lips. She breathed in his scent, burning it into her memory.

"Sleep, sweet Arya. The night is almost up and tomorrow we will have to be on the road again."

Though she could not fathom being able to close her eyes and sleep at a time like this, his words were the last thing she remembered before sleep took her under. Arya had not realized how tired she was. Gendry's warmth and the beat of his heart lured her to sleep.

* * *

He stayed awake long after the girl in his arms slept. Gendry held Arya tightly to him, his mind pulling in several directions all at once. He knew the night he had seen her at the feast he was in love with her. How could one not love Arya Stark. She was beautiful, strong-willed, kind. He was not surprised that he had fallen so hard, but he was surprised that she returned his feelings. What had he done to deserve such a gift as what she gave him?

The hard part was not confessing his feelings for her. That came as easily as the breaths he took. If he had to, he would confess his love over and over. It was odd, this feeling of love. Being in King Eddard's army, he had known what selflessness was, had known the what it was to put one's life before his own. Many times in battle, he had made a decision that could have cost him his life to save his brothers in arms, and he had done it without hesitation or thought. But this, this was different. Loving Arya meant being a part of something larger than himself. Having her love him back meant he held a great responsibility. He only had one memory of unwavering love, but the woman that had showed him such devotion had died before her time. Seldom did his mother cross his mind, but in the darkness of the night, she crept into his mind. She was the only one, before Arya, that Gendry could say without a doubt loved him. In some way, he wanted to believe his mother had sent Arya to him. Anything was possible.

Was he strong enough to stand aside and watch another man take Arya's hand? Could he watch Arya being led away from him by the prince of the Twins? The thought caused anger to swell in him, caused his hands to ball into fists. It would happen, without a doubt. He would have to stand aside, as if it meant nothing to him, as some other man stood at her side as her equal, her one half of a whole. Perhaps he had misjudged his jealousy, for the more he thought about the situation the angrier he became.

Gently, he slid from Arya's grasp. She softly whined, yet released him. His shoulder was throbbing, causing him to wince as he stood from the bed. He tried to stretch it, but it was stiff and the more he moved it the more pain shot through his body. Gendry stood at the foot of the bed, watching Arya sleep. She had chosen him, not the Frey prince, and as long as he remembered that he could get through this journey. At least that is what he continued to tell himself over and over. No matter his feelings, he still had a job to do, which was to ensure Arya's safety.

The thought of Arya's safety had him turning to look at the entrance to Hot Pie's tent. His eyes grew dark, his face determined. She had almost been kidnapped, taken, and the gods' knows what done to her. He had been walking around the perimeter when her screams had struck him like lightening from the sky above. She had screamed his name, causing his blood had drained to his feet. An uncontrollable urge to get to her had taken over. He would take numerous slashes to his body to never have to hear such a scream come from Arya again.

As he exited the tent, he did not stop to chat with his men. His mind was only on one person, and he would not be distracted. Gendry needed answers, answers as to why Vargo Hoat tried to take Arya. Though he doubted he would get much information out of the man, he would try. As he had demanded, ten guards stood outside the tent. When he walked in, another six stood guard with Vargo Hoat sitting on the ground in the middle. His hands were tied behind his back, his legs tied in the front. His head was down, as if he were sleeping, but Gendry watched his head slowly begin to rise. The men stared at each other in silence, neither moving a muscle.

Vargo Hoat was the first to break the stare between them. He smiled, his chipped teeth shining in candlelight. "Have you come to pass my sentence, Ser Gendry?" he asked, his voice mocking.

Gendry felt anger swell within him. It would be so easy to walk up to the man and snap his neck like a twig, yet he had some unanswered questions, some holes that needed to be filled and Vargo Hoat was the only man that could do it. Would he be willing to answer the questions? A part of Gendry felt that he would, for he knew the man wanted to be heard, knew the man had something to say.

"Your sentence is not mine to pass. You will be escorted to the Twins, whereby King Walder Frey will see to your punishment."

"Does that eat you up?" Vargo Hoat laughed. "Does it eat you up that the man's son will get that girl? I have seen the way you look at her, see the way you move about her like a shadow. You like her, maybe even love her, do you not?"

Gendry took a step towards the man, the goading feeding his anger. He forced himself to quit walking, forced himself calm down. "I will be the one to answer the questions," he ground out.

"Oh I am sure you have plenty of questions, but that does not mean that I cannot ask some of my own. Tell me Ser Gendry, have you fucked her yet? Have you spoiled the princess with your seed?" Vargo Hoat said, laughter bubbling in his throat.

Before Gendry could stop himself, he flew at the man. Grabbing him by his shirt, he jerked Vargo Hoat onto his feet. The men stood inches apart, Gendry's bared teeth inches from the man's face. It was as if the man was in Gendry's head, as if he could see his thoughts. How did he know of his love for Arya? How did he know that he wanted to lie with Arya, as a man should lie with a woman? It burned him inside, the flames causing him to lose all thought for a moment and only see the rage.

"You will not talk about her like that, you filth. You are not worthy to utter her name!" Gendry ground in the man's face.

"Just as you are not worthy to want her, Ser Gendry, or have you forgotten the Royal oath and decree? I might be from a small forgotten village but even I have heard of such a decree. What are you going to do when the Frey bastard is the one in her bed, fucking her? Are you going to stand outside of their room to guard the door? Are you going to stand and listen as he makes her a woman?"

Gendry lost control of his emotions, lost control of his temper. His fist went flying at the man's cheek, hitting his target dead on. Though red-hot pain shot up his wounded shoulder, Gendry barely felt it. His rage was too out of control, too extreme, to be stopped. Blood flew from Vargo Hoat's mouth and nose. Gendry did not stop with just one hit. He struck the man twice more before his men drug him away. Vargo Hoat fell to the ground, the blood freely flowing from the corners of his mouth.

"Did I hit a nerve, lover boy?" the man said, spitting blood from his mouth.

Gendry fought against the men holding him, wanting nothing more than to beat Vargo Hoat some more. He felt the man deserved a few more hits before dying of a painful death.

"Gendry, calm down!"

Sandor's voice broke through the haze of rage, bringing Gendry back to the here and now. He had not noticed that it was Sandor and Hot Pie that were restraining him, keeping him away from Vargo Hoat. He stopped fighting against them, yet it did little to squelch his rage. It burned out of control underneath the surface. If the man continued to speak Gendry feared he would kill the man without thought before they could get answers. He turned his back on the man, trying to reign in his anger as best he could. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths. Though it took several minutes, he felt himself calming down.

"You were with others. Where are they now?" Gendry said, his voice barely controlled, yet he was winning the battle against his out of control rage. "Tell us where your men are."

There was no answer from Vargo Hoat, only a bloody smile. "You want me to answer your questions?" the man asked.

"Yes," Gendry responded without hesitation.

"Bring the princess to me and I will answer all the questions you men have, but only if she is the one that asks them. I have no desire to spend my time looking upon such ugly faces as you gentlemen, yet I will be more willing to do as you want if I can look upon a beautiful face."

Gendry's forehead scrunched up in confusion. What was he trying to pull? Was it a trap, or perhaps more games? He did not want Arya anywhere near this man. "No," Gendry growled.

"Then you will get no answers to the questions you seek. How is it that you will protect her when you do not even know what you are protecting her from?"

"You will answer my questions now, or you will suffer the consequences, the Twins be damned!" Gendry yelled.

All that he received from his outburst was another bloody smile. The man did not fear anything Gendry would do to him, which made him dangerous. As he tried to take another step towards Vargo Hoat, Sandor stopped him. The hold on his arm was firm, keeping him in place.

"Gendry, if Princess Arya can get the information out of him, I do not see the harm in bringing her here. We have this tent surrounded and she will be well protected. The faster we know what we are up against, the easier it will be for us to get prepared."

Though Gendry did not want to admit it, he knew that Sandor was right. Arya would be well protected, yet the thought of her being so close to this man caused his insides to turn. She would not be alone, for he would be at her side, ready to strike at a moment's notice. He did not say another word, but turned from the men and exited the tent.

When he entered, Gendry almost changed his mind as he watched Arya sleep. She looked peaceful, and he knew she needed the sleep. He sat down on the edge of the bed, softly moving a strand of hair from her forehead. What was Vargo Hoat up to? Why did he refuse to talk to the men, yet he was willing to tell Arya everything? With a heavy sigh, he gently shook her awake.

"Gendry?" Arya asked, sleepily.

"I am sorry to wake you, but we need your help," he said softly.

Arya blinked the sleep from her eyes a few times, sitting up and waiting for him to speak. She nodded her head, agreeing to whatever he needed.

"Vargo Hoat is refusing to talk to anyone but you. If it were not of the utmost importance that I get this information, I would not have awoken you. I do not like it, but it is the only option we have."

Arya nodded at everything he said, the sleep melting from her face. Without a word, she climbed out of the bed and waited for Gendry to join her. He was astounded at her willfulness. Astounded at her eagerness to help. Where most women would balk at having to stand before the man that had tried to take her in the night, Arya held her head high with authority.

They walked back to the tent where Vargo Hoat was being held. Gendry stuck closely to Arya's side, watching the shadows of the night move around them. There were more of Vargo Hoat's men out there, and it was possible they were very near. That thought caused him to take Arya's arm just to have a constant connection with her. He did not like the darkness, the open space of the forest. If the men would strike, it would be the perfect opportunity.

When they walked into the tent, all eyes turned to them. Gendry dropped his hand from Arya's arm, missing the connection with her immediately. Vargo Hoat saw this and smiled, winking at Gendry. It took every bit of strength he had not to charge at the man again.

"Hello, princess. We meet again," Vargo Hoat said, turning his attention to Arya.

"I was told you wanted to see me. Why?" Arya asked.

Vargo Hoat sighed. "Oh, our time before was so much fun I thought we would go for round two."

"Sir, you will not waste my time. These men have questions that need to be answered" Arya said, her patience waning.

Vargo Hoat began to move, causing Gendry and his men to take a step towards him. He did not stop, though the guards' hands were on the hilt of their blades. He struggled to his feet, but to his feet he went.

"That is how people of your kind think, is it not, princess?" he sneered. "Someone such as myself wasting your time? No, you waste my time with your self absorbed, entitled attitude!"

To Gendry's surprise and fear, Arya walked straight up to Vargo Hoat before he had time to think to stop her. She stood face to face with the man. Gendry was at her side in an instant, ready to intervene if he had to.

"This is the second time you have assumed what kind of person I am. Sir, I have never met you, nor have I done any ill will towards you. If I have, speak it now and I will apologize where it is due, otherwise never assume that you know a thing about me," Arya said. Though her voice was soft, her words were that of a warhammer falling on its victim in battle. Gendry's pride for the girl swelled.

For a moment, even Vargo Hoat seemed taken aback, yet he recovered immediately. "It is not something you have done, but something you will do, for you are guilty by association. You will be no different than the filth that sit upon their makeshift thrones. You will be no different than the Freys you will marry in to, whose sole purpose is to try and act as though they are some prestigious family ruling over a great kingdom, while they allow their people to starve and die!"

Gendry watched the blood drain from Arya's face. "You...you are from the Twins? The people are starving?" she asked, though her voice was weak.

Vargo Hoat's face crumbled a moment, as if he were going to cry. "Yes, princess. My wife and child starved to death at the hands of King Frey. I watched them turn to nothing but bone in the shadow of the mighty Twin."

Arya looked away, her eyes growing distant. Gendry watched her, worried that she would break down at this news. It was evident on her face that she was effected a great deal by what the man had said. A chocking sound came out of Vargo Hoat's mouth, until it grew into bubbling laughter. Both Arya and Gendry jerked their heads to look upon him, as if he had lost his mind, which would not be far fetched.

"You gullible little wench," he drawled. "I am not from this hideous land, nor have I a wife and child. I could care less what happens to these river rats!" He took a step towards Arya, causing Gendry to reach out and grab his arm to stop him from getting any closer. Vargo Hoat did not give Gendry a second glance. His snarl was meant for Arya and her alone. "You stupid girl, have you no idea how much you are worth? Do you not know how much your father would pay to have you back, how much Walder Frey would pay to have you back?" He stopped again, licking his lips and looking Arya up and down. Gendry felt the hairs on the back of his head rise. "Besides, its been a long time since my men and I have had a good, clean woman."

Vargo Hoat tried to dodge Gendry's hold, tried to lean in to lick Arya's lips, but he was not fast enough to get around Gendry. Gendry did not hesitate to push Vargo Hoat away from Arya, push him back until they hit the side of the tent. Gendry's hand was around the man's throat, squeezing him.

"Escort Princess Arya back to the tent," Gendry commanded without letting go of Vargo Hoat.

As soon as he was sure Arya was safely away, he threw the man to the ground. Standing above him, Gendry glared down at him, begging him to make one wrong move to give him a reason to strike. He received nothing but a smile. Disgusted, Gendry turned away from the man and proceeded to walk out of the tent, yet the man's voice stopped him.

"Ser Gendry, let me go. You will not get many warnings from this point on, but if you will let me go I will leave you in peace. If you do not heed my warning, anything that happens from this point on will be on your head."

Gendry turned back to the man, shaking his head slightly. "You will be taken to the Twins, where you will stand trial for the crimes, which you have committed against Princess Arya Stark of Winterfell and the murder of one of her guardsmen. Your fate is in the hands of the Freys, not mine."

"But her fate, as well as the fate of all of your men, are in your hands, Ser Gendry. Two final warnings, release me and let me go."

Gendry snarled at the man. "You are in no position to threaten me, you filth." Without waiting on him to respond, Gendry walked out of the tent, yet he could not shake the feeling of something bad waiting on the horizon.

* * *

"I did not sleep well at all," Sansa said.

Arya sat in the carriage with Sansa, Beth and Osha. She had to agree with Sansa. After her encounter with Vargo Hoat she could not go back to sleep. Even when Gendry had come in and joined her again, holding her tightly to him for what remained of the night, she could not drift back to sleep. Now, being on the road for almost an hour, it was already taking its toll. The sun shown too brightly above her head, making her want to shut her eyes. Perhaps she would get a small nap in while she could.

Arya laid her head back against the soft purple silk. The movement of the carriage rocked her, as if she were a babe in its mother's arms. She wanted to be out in the open riding with Gendry, but he felt it would be safer for her to ride in the carriage. Vargo Hoat's men were still out there...somewhere.

Her eyes were almost closed, her mind almost in dreams, when there was a loud pop from underneath the carriage. It jarred Arya awake, causing her to look around in confusion. She was met with the confused faces of the women beside her. For a moment, they sat in silence, waiting and listening. After a few moments of nothing happening, Arya laughed nervously. Right as Arya decided she had made up the noise, she heard it again. From underneath the bottom of the carriage, the pop rang out again, only this time it sent a little tremor into the carriage. Arya grabbed the open window, her hands shaking from the trimmer.

"Halt!" she heard someone shout from her window.

The carriage and the men came to a standstill. The woods around them were completely silent, the only noise coming from the horses themselves. Something was not right, for Arya could feel it deep within her. Her heart hammered in her chest, as her stomach rolled into knots. She stretched her neck out of the window so as to see what was happening. Upon his new horse, Gendry galloped towards them, his face looking concerned. When he met her stare, she smiled. He returned it with a small smile of his own.

"Is everything alright?" she asked him as he dismounted from his horse.

Gendry walked to her open window, checking on the ladies inside. "I think so. We are just going to check some things on the carriage, make sure nothing has come loose." Though his voice was calm and nonchalant, Arya could hear the concern etched in his words.

"Ser Gendry! I told you that I would give you one final warning! Free me now and be about your way. Do not free me and suffer the consequences. This will be your final warning!" Vargo Hoat screamed from somewhere behind the carriage.

Arya rolled her eyes, looking at Gendry, yet Gendry was not looking at her. Instead, his attention was somewhere else. Arya watched as his eyes grew distant. He was staring in the direction of where Vargo Hoat had screamed, but his head slowly turned towards the carriage. First, he looked at it from top to bottom, and then he met Arya's eyes. It was as if he had never seen a carriage before, yet Arya knew something was wrong. She knew something was about to happen, for she could see the same fear in Gendry's eyes that began to grow inside her.

"Get out of the carriage, now! All of you get out!" Gendry said suddenly, almost loud enough to be considered a yell.

Gendry grabbed the door, ready to open it, but he never got the chance. Something came hurdling from the woods, striking the horses and causing them to panic. Their screams were deafening, yet that is not what pierced Arya's heart.

One moment Gendry was standing at the open window, grabbing her arm and the next, his hold was torn away from her. The horses bucked and took off at lightening speed, taking the carriage and women with them. The women began to scream as they were thrown forward. Arya could do nothing but think of the large steep incline on either side of the road. The carriage would never survive such a fall and if it did, it would break around them like wood on a fire.

To her horror, she felt the carriage shift to the left, felt the inevitable creeping up on her. Right before the horses took the path Arya feared, causing the women to be thrown forward with a powerful impact, She heard Gendry scream her name.

**A/N: Reviews and comments appreciated! Yes, I know, I left you at a cliffhanger again...but what can I say. I love them soooooo much! Arya and the women are in BIG BIG trouble. Will they survive the fall to come? Will Gendry and the others be able to save them? Guess you have to stay tuned to find out! **


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